


CSI: Hormigas Coloradas

by fhsa_archivist



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Episode Related, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-11
Updated: 2006-05-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 17:38:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 79,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12799119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: A friend to lend a helping hand.





	1. Chapter 1  Hormigas Coloradas

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

They said they sent him home because he'd be more comfortable there than in a hospital bed. They were right. They were also leaving out the part where they needed the bed for more critical patients, and it cost the department less to send an intern over every day to check his vitals than it would to cover the cost of an extended hospital stay.

 

Not that the department was sparing any expense when it came to Nick's recovery. That was one of the benefits of working for the state. Of course, if he didn't work for the state, he wouldn't have ended up like this in the first place. If he hadn't flipped the coin the way he did...

 

There were too many ifs. They ran around his head all day in this lonely bed, only interrupted by the interns who came to take care of him and the occassional visits from co-workers. Nick didn't have many friends here. He liked to consider his co-workers his friends, and after what Warrick and Grissom had gone through for him, with him, Nick knew they were.

 

He'd been so impatient to get out of the box. If Grissom hadn't stopped him, if Warrick hadn't held his hand, he would have been out, and he would have been blown to a million pieces. Hard as he tried to imagine it, he couldn't, and that was when the bites and stings itched worst.

 

Every hour cycled into this. Nick curled his hands into fists, clenching his jaw as his fingernails scraped against itching welts on his palms. The muscles in his arms twitched and Nick hoped they would cramp, just for a different kind of pain. He laughed as he gritted his teeth, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.

 

There was a knock on the door. Nick's eyes flicked to the clock on the bedside table; the intern had already been here today. Nick relaxed his arms, and looked at the door.

 

"It's open."

 

Warrick's head poked in first, concern creasing his forehead, sympathy twisting his lips into a smile. "Hey." Nick smiled as Warrick walked across the room, dragging a chair over beside the bed. "Better?"

 

"Do I look better?" Nick asked wryly, but his smile remained. The itch wasn't as bad when Warrick was there. When any of them were there, really. They'd saved his life. All of them had. And even though sometimes he felt like he'd rather be dead, he was grateful to be alive. To know that these people cared about him as much as he cared about them.

 

"No." Warrick laughed and reached for Nick's wrist. Nick raised his eyebrows, and Warrick pulled his hand away. "Stop scratching."

 

It wasn't the first time Nick had started scratching without realizing it. He sighed, dropping his hand onto the bed, palm up. Warrick's hand slid into his, and held on. Something that might've seemed odd before, now it just helped Nick hold on. "When I was a kid in Texas, those thing were all over the place. We'd..." Nick motioned with his free hand. "We'd take a magnifying glass and line it up with the sun, fry the little bastards." Nick laughed when Warrick did, settling into a sigh as he looked at the bites covering his body. He turned to look at Warrick again, only vaguely amused. "Think this was payback?"

 

Warrick chuckled and shook his head. "Little bastards deserve it," he said comfortingly. "I hear they sting like hell."

 

Nick grimaced in agreement. Talking about it only made them itch worse, but somehow he didn't really mind.

 

Cool, soothing fluid on his arm. Nick closed his eyes. The rest of his body felt like it was on fire, but wherever Warrick's fingers were, felt like heaven. Hydrocortizone cream had that effect on a guy covered with fire ant bites. "Thanks, man," Nick murmured.

 

"Any time," Warrick murmured back. Nick fell asleep holding his hand.


	2. Chapter 2  Changes

  
Author's notes: Things are changing.  


* * *

Nick didn't like the desert anymore. It was too hot, and the bugs felt too real. Bugs were fine for Grissom; Griss could have them. But Nick didn't want them, and he didn't want to imagine them. He didn't know what was worse; being covered in hungry ants, or just thinking he was.

 

It had happened at two crime scenes in a row. They'd been in the desert both times; different deserts, same Vegas, same hallucinations. Same uncomfortable feeling that any moment, the plexiglas would crack, and the packed dirt would spill in on him like a dry and deadly flood.

 

It wasn't just ants anymore. Sometimes it was flies, or cockroaches, and once a dragonfly flapping its wings on his cheek. Each nonexistant bug left a mark; sometimes a pink mark from the smack of Nick's hand, sometimes white-yellow lines when Nick scratched at his own skin, and more often than not, it deepened the lines on Nick's forehead.

 

He already felt so old. He didn't have to look in the mirror to see the lines; he could feel them, etched into his skin, so deep there were varying degrees of tan. It made him feel older than he was, but so did the bouts of being unable to breathe, so did the moments when his fingers twitched on the trigger of his gun clearing a scene and he started to wonder if he was losing his edge. If his reflexes were getting slower or his grasp on reality was slipping, he feared what would happen at the next scene where a perp was still there, laying in wait for his next victim.

 

"I need a vacation," he told Griss, even though he knew he'd used up all his vacation time. Griss would figure something out; he was a smart guy. And sympathetic too, even though he played at emotional distance. Nick knew Gil - Griss - he was the guy who'd known exactly what to say to keep Nick sane long enough that he wouldn't blow them all up. Funny how Griss knew he'd respond better to the fact that he'd be endangering lives other than his own. Empathy had always been Nick's strong suit; caring for himself, not so much.

 

Griss steepled his fingers in front of his face, and Nick relaxed back in the chair opposite his boss. Griss would figure something out. He had to, because Nick was a key member of the team and Griss couldn't afford to let him go crazy. "San Antonio?"

 

"No," Nick said immediately. "Somewhere - not hot."

 

Griss tapped his index fingers together, then dipped into the top drawer of his desk, pulling out a thin sheaf of papers. "How do you feel about brushing up on some of the technological advances in forensic science?"

 

***

 

"It's been three years since I gave this presentation. You'd think I'd have more updates."

 

Nick looked away from the television, leaving the mute on as he rested the remote in his lap. "Maybe it means you got the right idea from the start and you don't have to make any improvements," Nick offered. "Sometimes no news is good news."

 

Warrick shrugged slightly, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration. He kept scratching his pen on the paper, but when Nick got up to peer over his shoulder, all he saw were overlapping red lines. Warrick glanced up at him. "You think it's okay?"

 

"It's fine," Nick reassured him. He'd heard the presentation three times, and coming from anyone else, he'd probably be bored. But there was something about Warrick's voice that wouldn't let him be bored; Warrick's voice was low and rumbling and stirred Nick's attention. He could listen to the same speech till dawn and not get bored. "But you could spice up the powerpoint. Less words, more pictures."

 

Warrick chuckled. "Short attention span there, Stokes?" he teased, and Nick laughed.

 

"Cmon, man, it's 2005. You've still got the same font you used the first time ten years ago and you haven't added any new photos. Don't you have some from more recent scenes?" Tiny dots of sensation moved down Nick's arm and he scowled, brushing away at the millipede even though he knew it wasn't really there. Stupid hallucinations.

 

"You okay?" Warrick's brow was creased with concern, and even though Nick hated his own frown lines, he liked Warrick's. They made him look dignified and thoughtful, not old. Which made Nick think of Griss, for some reason, and even if Warrick's hair ever got gray, Nick had the feeling Warrick would always look thirty to him.

 

"Yeah, just..." Nick sighed and rolled his shoulders. "Still feel bugs. Where's Sanders with a fire extinguisher when you need one?"

 

Warrick laughed, low and hearty. "Well, I know where you can find a fire extinguisher, but Sanders is a few hundred miles away," Warrick noted. He turned back to his notes, smiling to himself, and Nick knew a jab was coming. "Maybe you can charm one of the ladies from the seminar into spraying whipped cream on you."

 

Nick snorted, but didn't comment. He was so tired of that old image of himself, even if it was one he'd worked years to perfect. It wasn't like he could go back and change it now. "I'm gonna get some shut-eye," he muttered, crawling into the bed farthest away from Warrick's desk and burrowing under the covers. Old lives, old lies, but at least he was alive. Even if he sometimes wondered if that was how it was meant to be.

 

***

 

Warrick invited him to breakfast that morning, but Nick turned it down, pretending to still be tired. Truth was, he couldn't stop thinking about Warrick's comment about the ladies. Why had it been so important to him to convince everyone he was straight? Sure, times had changed in the past ten years, but it wasn't like being gay was much worse than being suspected of killing the hooker he'd slept with, or being buried alive. Would people still judge him after what he'd been through? Or was that not enough of an excuse?

 

He could imagine Greg's reaction - Ha, I knew it all along. Greg was always looking for the deviance in people, fascinated by alternative sexualities and lifestyles. He'd known about needing dishwashing soap to put on scuba gear, he'd known about liquid latex and the stuff that went on at Lady Heather's, and after the case with the convention at the casino, Greg had added plus-sized women's catalogs to the porn he pretended he didn't keep hidden in the lab. Nick had found it more than once, and why anyone put up with it, Nick didn't know. Greg was a pervert to end all perverts, but he was a good guy, too, so Nick tried not to judge. He just he had a feeling that Greg would be the only one not to judge him if it ever got out that Nick was gay.

 

Sara and Catherine weren't interested in him, so at least they wouldn't be bitter, but Nick could picture them muttering under their breaths, especially after Nick had knocked Catherine as a supervisor. Griss, well, he might judge but at least he'd keep it to himself. Those weren't the people Nick was worried about, though.

 

Archie would stop inviting Nick over to his place for beer and football and video games, and Hodges' insults would get even worse. The reaction Nick dreaded most was Warrick's, though. Warrick, who'd taken care of him when he'd been in bed, touched him in ways that were only acceptable between men in times of extreme hardship. What Nick had gone through passed, of course, it was bad enough that Warrick could overlook the fact that he was touching another man, but what would Warrick think if he knew that Nick was into other guys? Would he get another room in the hotel, would he start looking at Nick differently and wonder why he'd allowed himself to get so close to Nick? It was clear that Warrick thought he was straight and liked it that way. So there was really nothing Nick could do but keep his thoughts to himself.

 

***

 

"Hey, I didn't see you at the seminar this afternoon."

 

Nick had gone to the morning seminar with Warrick, but he'd felt too fidgety to sit through the afternoon next to Warrick. He had this big secret and he didn't know how to keep it to himself, and it was only the thought of losing Warrick's friendship that kept his mouth shut. Self preservation was starting to come naturally. "Wasn't feeling good," he mumbled, rolling over onto his side, away from his friend. Would Warrick still be his friend if he knew the truth? Was there some kind of litmus test so he could find out?

 

Come on, Stokes, he thought, Warrick's gonna catch on eventually. Either that or start taking care of you again, and when he finds out why you're so comfortable with it, he'll freak. Nick let out a frustrated sigh, tugging the covers around his shoulders. It felt like stupid boy scouts again, going on camping trips and having to pretend to be more interested in roughing the outdoors than watching the other boys.

 

And that was just... such a wrong thought to have. Nick squeezed his eyes shut, fisting his hand in the blankets. He wasn't twelve years old anymore. Times had changed. Hadn't they?

 

"Bugs again?"

 

Warrick's voice was so close that it startled Nick's eyes open. He had to blink to get Warrick's face in focus, right in front of him, Warrick kneeling next to the bed to look at him. Nick glanced away, trying to find the right answer, but he might as well have looked for snow in Texas. "Yeah," he lied, and rolled away from Warrick again before slipping out of bed. It was a bad sign when he couldn't even look his best friend in the eye. "Gonna shower," he announced unenthusiastically, swatting at a bug that wasn't made up this time. Ants again. With wings.

 

***

 

The lab was darker than Nick remembered, half the evidence rooms deserted. That meant it was a slow night, or a fast one, and everyone was somewhere other than here.

 

The break room was empty except for Greg, eyes closed and lips moving, mumbling an incoherent recitation. "Lake Mead," he muttered, foot tapping impatiently as he stood in front of the coffee pot. "But leaves." Greg shrugged, then opened his eyes and turned around. "Hey. How was Seattle?"

 

Nick opened his mouth, frowning in confusion. How had Greg known he was there? "Fine," he shrugged, going to stand beside Greg by the counter. "Almost done?"

 

"Yeah, getting there." Greg sounded as bored as the lab felt. "Hey, you missed a good case. Missing person, we found her before it was too late."

 

"Oh." They didn't get many of those, cases that turned out well. "Sorry I missed it."

 

Greg shrugged, then looked up at him. "Oh, Grissom's in his office. He wanted you to check in when you got back."

 

"Sure. Thanks." Nick left without a cup of coffee, his gaze trained on his shoes as he made his way to Griss's office. He knew the lab like the back of his hand, could navigate it with his eyes closed. It kind of felt like he was walking through a dream instead of coming back to work, but Seattle had been like that, cool but not rainy like he'd expected. Grey days that matched his mood lately.

 

His footsteps seemed to echo through the hallways, but Nick was sure that was his imagination, along with the itch crawling up his shoulderblades. He ached not to have to be professional, to be able to back up to a doorway and rub the itch away on a corner like a horse, but he set his jaw and tried to ignore it. It didn't work very well, and by the time he got to Griss's office, he was already waiting to escape so he could scratch until it didn't itch anymore.

 

Griss was halfway through a sandwich, chewing idly as he glanced at a computer monitor. He looked up when Nick came through the doorway, setting down his sandwich and motioning for Nick to sit down.

 

The sandwich wasn't alone. Griss had a clear jar on his desk with some kind of bug skittering inside. Nick suppressed a shudder. "You have a new pet," he noticed.

 

"Nick," Griss said, ignoring his comment. Nick frowned. "I have to leave for the conference in San Antonio tomorrow." Oh. The vacation that Nick had turned down. Instead of the one he'd just gotten back from, with Warrick. "I need you to supervise."

 

"What, me?" Nick had barely gotten settled back into his role as CSI; how was he supposed to take on the responsibility of supervisor? "What about Catherine?"

 

"Well, she's going with me," Griss said in that logical, confused voice of his. Nick nodded, understanding. Well, he understood why him and not Warrick; Warrick had screwed up that one time Griss had given him a chance to act as supervisor. And, well, he guessed he understood why Griss would choose him over Sara, too, considering that he'd beaten Sara for every promotion since they'd started. "Think you can handle it?"

 

"I'll do my best," Nick promised. Griss had chosen him for a reason, and even if the reason was just process of elimination, Griss still trusted him to be in charge. And if there was one thing that Nick remembered from his time underground, it was the deep regret of having disappointed the first person in Vegas who'd made him feel like a part of the team.

 

"Good," Griss concluded shortly, and went back to his sandwich. Taking that as a dismissal, Nick pushed up from the chair, the scraping sound grating against his ears. Only then did he notice that the itching was gone.


	3. Chapter 3 Return

  
Author's notes: Nick returns from the conference. So does his anger.  


* * *

The first challenge of being a supervisor was deciding how to assign the cases; how many bodies he needed on each case, which case he'd take, and which of the CSIs to assign where. Nick was actually relieved that Catherine and Griss weren't there; he didn't think he could live up to their example, especially in their presence.

 

There were three cases and four CSIs. Greg couldn't solo yet, so Nick assigned him with Warrick, the better to avoid the man who'd been hovering around Nick since they'd gotten back from Seattle. Nick should've been glad, but Warrick was always asking if he was okay, always offering to hang out, and Nick liked it too much to let it happen. He was too comfortable with Warrick, and when he let himself be comfortable, he said things he could later regret. He wasn't going to let himself say anything that would ruin their friendship, even if it meant avoiding Warrick. Which kind of ruined the friendship anyway, but at least Warrick still respected him.

 

Nick sent Sara on a suspicious circs case in the desert, taking the burglary at the casino for himself. The casino had air conditioning and, even better, an excellent security system. Everything Nick needed was handed right to him, and once he processed the scene, it was back to the lab to drop trace with Hodges and prints with Jacqui.

 

For the most part, the week went smoothly. No one questioned his authority, which was to be expected since Griss was the one to put him in charge and no one had the guts to question Nick's first time being in charge since his kidnapping. That would have looked bad, and no one wanted to look bad.

 

By the end of the week, Nick had a nice sturdy mustache growing in. It looked dignified and authoritive, but it was about a week too late, because Griss and Catherine were back. Nick wished he'd started growing it sooner, but he hadn't and he liked it, so he kept it. And now that it was fully grown in, people were starting to notice it.

 

Not the way he'd expected, though. Griss narrowed his eyes when he saw Nick for the first time, cocking his head as the confused wrinkles around his eyes eventually shifted to amusement. Baffled, Nick escaped to the break room, running into Warrick and Greg. Warrick took a good look at him and for the first time all week, Nick saw him smile.

 

Then Warrick hid a laugh behind his hand. "What's that thing on your face, man?" Nick glared.

 

"Looks like a mid-life crisis to me," Greg muttered sarcastically. Nick turned around slowly.

 

"Excuse me?" Nick stopped, staring at Greg, and stepped forward to invade the lab tech's space. Only to realize that Greg was taller than him. When had that happened? "Thirty-four is not middle aged."

 

Greg held his glare. "It is when you work in this job. Or have you forgotten already?"

 

Nick couldn't believe Greg's gall. What happened next was kind of blurry, but it ended with Nick shoving Warrick away and pushing Greg back against the counter. "You don't have the right," he snarled. Greg glared.

 

"Oh, excuse me, Mister-I-got-buried-alive." Nick pushed harder, his pulse racing, veins standing out on his neck, but Greg didn't stop. "You're not the only one who's almost died on the job."

 

Nick stared blankly, trying to figure out what the hell Greg was talking about. It was hard to think with Greg glaring at him and Warrick trying to pull him off Greg, alternately tugging on Nick's arm and pushing back when Nick tried to shove him away again.

 

"Stop fucking feeling sorry for yourself and acting like you're the only one who's been through hard times. I lived through an explosion and I've got permanent scars, or did you forget that, too?"

 

Nick had never really paid that much attention to Greg. Sure, he noticed the scars every once in a while, but he never really thought about what they meant. Greg was just a lab tech, a CSI wannabe, but he wasn't a wannabe anymore, was he? He was actually a CSI, at the same point in his career that Nick had been at ten years ago.

 

But so what. Greg had crossed a line; he'd mentioned Nick's near-death experience like it was nothing, and that wasn't acceptable. No one got to make light of Nick's kidnapping except for Nick, and even Nick wasn't ready for that. "Stop feeling sorry for myself?" he repeated, his face contorted in disbelief. "You mean like you, dressing up like you're going to a funeral every day, sulking around the lab like you don't have anything better to do?" Yeah, Nick had noticed Greg this week, because he was the supervisor and he had to pay attention to the people he was supervising. And Greg's behavior was seriously depressing.

 

Greg's expression was stormy. "Get your hand off me or I'll file assault charges so fast your head will spin," Greg ground out. Nick's blood was boiling, though, and all he could hear was the echo of Greg's voice in his head, reminding him that he'd been buried alive. He couldn't have moved if he wanted to.

 

Nick felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, and realized with a shock that he was still pushing Greg against the counter. "Let him go," said a soft, commanding voice, and Nick dropped his hand, faltering as Greg shoved him backwards before storming away. Gil's hands were on his shoulders, keeping him from falling, and Nick tried to figure out when exactly he'd snapped and decided to take out his anger on a coworker. The only person who deserved his anger was dead, and Nick was attacking people he worked with.

 

Nick turned around, sagging weakly against the counter, bracing himself with his hands for support. Warrick was standing off to the side, rubbing his arm. Nick must've pushed harder than he thought. "Warrick," he began, stepping forward to reach out, but Warrick shook his head, and then left the break room. Nick didn't know what to do.

 

"I think you should take some time off," Gil said firmly. Nick dropped his gaze. That was no suggestion, it was an order.

 

He'd let Gil down again. "Yes, sir," he said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying not to drag his feet as he headed for the locker room. He might as well pack up his locker; it wasn't like he would be coming back.

 

Maybe it was for the best.


	4. Chapter 4  Inquisition

  
Author's notes: Warrick makes Nick think. Also, facial hair is discussed.  


* * *

He should be packing.

 

Nick was already mostly sure he was leaving. Leaving the crime lab, leaving Vegas, going... somewhere else. He didn't know where yet, though, and that was the only reason he hadn't called human resources to give his notice yet.

 

Despite his determination to get out of Vegas, Nick's suitcases still sat empty and dusty in the closet. A lot like Nick's sex life, actually. It was just as well; better that he didn't have any physical or emotional connections in Vegas. Except for his friends, but he'd already alienated them all after his stunt in the break room.

 

It had been three nights. Three nights of staying up and staring at the ceiling, trying to decide between calling in and quitting, calling in to hear Gil's sensible voice, calling Warrick's cell in hopes of Warrick talking some sense into him, making an appointment for PEAP counseling, packing, finding a place to live, or just getting in his truck and driving until he ran out of gas. His thoughts were pulling him in so many directions that there was only one place he could go, and that was nowhere.

 

***

 

The doorbell was ringing, but Nick didn't get up to answer it. He was too tired. The ringing stopped, and Nick closed his eyes again, prepared to let sleep recapture him. Moments later, his bedroom door was pushed open.

 

Frowning, Nick rolled his head to the side, trying to figure out how someone had gotten in. He'd locked the front door, and no one had a key. Except, Nick remembered, he'd given Warrick a key when Warrick had been taking care of him.

 

Nick felt the mattress dip beside him as Warrick sat down, and opened his eyes. "Hey," he murmured, confused. "What are you doing here?"

 

Warrick didn't answer at first. He was staring at Nick's face, probably taking in the circles under Nick's eyes. They were so deep Nick could feel them. "What happened to you, man?" he asked softly. "You look like shit."

 

That was just unexpected enough to make Nick laugh. "Thanks a lot," he said, trying for sarcasm, but his voice was too tired for it to really work. Nick sighed, frowning in confusion when Warrick reached down to push back the bangs that had started to grow in since he'd started neglecting his hair. He hadn't shaved in almost five days, either, so there was that plus the mustache Warrick had already laughed at. And that was just his face. Nick knew he looked terrible; what he didn't know was why Warrick was touching him. Sure, he liked it, but he didn't understand it. "I don't know," he finally answered. How was he supposed to answer a question like that?

 

"Nick, if you weren't ready to come back to work, you shouldn't have come back. We can handle Vegas without you."

 

Nick scoffed. "Gee, thanks," he grinned.

 

"You know what I mean." Warrick wasn't pushing back his hair anymore, but his hand was resting on the pillow beside Nick's face, so close Nick wanted to turn into it just for the contact. "You're no good to us sick, bro."

 

Nick smiled wryly. "Or if I freak out?" he asked. Nick still hadn't apologized to anyone for the way he'd acted, and he really should. Greg deserved his apology most of all, but Warrick was the one who was here. Nick's smile disappeared and he did turn into Warrick's hand, but only so he could look at Warrick better. "Sorry 'bout... you know."

 

"Pushin' me around?" Warrick gave Nick a crooked smile, then surprised him again by stroking his thumb over Nick's cheek. Mentally, Nick furrowed his eyebrows, trying to figure out just how much he should read into Warrick's gesture. On the surface, he smiled, still resisting nuzzling into the touch like he wanted to. There was too much at stake for him to get the wrong idea from Warrick, or give Warrick the wrong idea. He shouldn't just enjoy Warrick's touch because comfort was being freely given. Nick wanted it to mean something. Not that Warrick was offering anything other than comfort, which was why Nick couldn't accept it. "Yeah, you know, I never lose my temper or anything."

 

That was as good as forgiveness, but Nick didn't feel like he deserved it. Yeah, Warrick did lose his temper on ocassion. But Nick wasn't Warrick. "Yeah," he agreed half-heartedly, letting his eyes drop closed. He was tired, and Warrick's hand felt good on his face. It would've felt even better if he didn't have five days worth of stubble getting in the way of Warrick's skin touching his directly.

 

Warrick's hand slipped out from under his cheek, only to return a few seconds later to Nick's hair, stroking soothingly. "Tired?" he asked sympathetically, and Nick nodded. Warrick's fingers slowed, trailing through his hair almost thoughtfully. "Want me to go?"

 

"Stay," Nick said without thinking. The rhythm of Warrick's fingers didn't change, reassuring Nick that he hadn't said the wrong thing.

 

"Okay," Warrick agreed, his hand disappearing after a moment. Nick opened his eyes, watching Warrick head for the door. Warrick must be going to the spare bedroom. He'd stayed there a few times when he'd been taking care of Nick, and Nick didn't have the nerve to ask Warrick to stay in the bed with him. He'd never slept with another man, sexually or not. He wasn't about to start with his best friend who was sending Nick the most confusing signals he'd ever gotten.

 

Still, Nick found that he slept better knowing Warrick was in the house with him.

 

***

 

Someone was watching him.

 

That was the thought that woke Nick up, and while it should be a cause for concern, it was not knowing he was being watched that made Nick more uncomfortable. Crane had spied on him from the attic for weeks and Nick hadn't had a clue, and when he'd been six feet under, he'd had no idea that there was a live feed of his imprisonment and manifest torture. Nick still cringed to think of what his coworkers had seen on that feed; gross vulnerability and pain on the face of the man who'd spent years perfecting a tough outer shell he hadn't thought could be cracked. Nick didn't ever want to feel like that again, and he certainly never wanted to find out that anyone had been watching him after it was too late to censor his reactions.

 

It was safer to assume that he was always being watched, but Nick forgot that sometimes. Those ignorant moments were bliss compared to the torture of feeling the hair on his neck stand on end, the unease of being watched more than matched by the discomfort of not being able to see who was watching him.

 

This time, it was just Warrick. Warrick who, Nick knew, had spent the day, saving him from having to spend another day alone with his thoughts. Warrick who had a plate of warm-smelling food in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other.

 

The childish side of Nick cheered up at the thought of being served breakfast in bed. The adult in Nick was starting to realize just how much he'd let himself go. It was nice to be served, but even nicer to be in the state of mind to serve himself.

 

"Eat up," Warrick practically ordered, waiting for Nick to sit up to shove the plate in his hands. "Then get up and shave that shit off your face. You look like a caveman."

 

Being served, right. More like being served papers on his dormancy. "You're not the boss of me," Nick grumbled obligatorily, but he appreciated it. Maybe Greg was right. Maybe he needed to stop feeling sorry for himself and a kick in the ass was just what he needed. "What are you doing here, anyway?" Warrick had never answered his question that morning.

 

Warrick folded himself into the chair in the near corner of Nick's room, beside the dresser, and crossed his arms over his chest. "The way I see it, you weren't anwering any of your calls and you didn't return any of Griss's pages. It was either check on you or wait to find out that your place was my next crime scene. More chance of all the evidence still being here if I get here before the cops."

 

It was thoughtful of Warrick to try to provoke him into a fight the way Greg had - although Greg hadn't done it on purpose - but Nick wasn't buying it. "And once you saw that I was alive and well, you thought it was a good idea to stick around and make sure I didn't bite the bullet after you left." Underneath his skin, Nick was a little shocky at the fact that yeah, he had been a crime scene for Warrick, and it'd almost been a homicide instead of a missing person case. Homicide-suicide, if Nick'd had his way, and Warrick hadn't shown up when he had. Nick looked down at the egg he was spearing into with his fork, and shot a mock suspicious look at Warrick. "Wait, what'd you put in this?" Warrick frowned, confused. He didn't get the joke. "You know - easier to clean up a DB in one piece than analyze the grey matter."

 

Nick flinched when his plate shattered against the wall, trying to figure out what had just happened and whether he should fight it when Warrick grabbed his shirt and started to drag him out of bed. There was orange juice on his clothes and the bed, probably the floor too, but before Nick could fully assess the damage, he became aware of the not-so-subtle scent of morning breath. "Shit, man, brush your teeth," Nick muttered, turning half-heartedly away from Warrick's gaze. Warrick let go of his shirt and shoved him back on the bed. That got Nick's attention, and fear started prickling along his skin, memories long since buried pushing at the surface of his mind. Was it something he'd said?

 

"Don't even joke about killing yourself," Warrick growled, leveling a glare that should've scared Nick even more. Except that Warrick's words made him not-scared; no, he was just pissed off now.

 

"And it's okay for you to?" he shouted, pushing off from the bed only to be pushed down again. Warrick stood solidly over him, hands on his hips. Nick got the feeling he was supposed to be cowering, but instead, he forced himself up and pushed back at Warrick, scowling at the silent strength of Warrick's immovable frame.

 

Warrick jabbed at his chest with a rather annoying finger. "If you think that's what I was talking about, you're dead wrong, Stokes." There was that word again - dead. Why were they talking about death? It was the last thing Nick wanted to talk about but the word kept popping up, in his mind, in Warrick's words. This was a voice Nick didn't like, or maybe it was what was being said in that voice, or both. Either way, Nick didn't like it. Not one bit.

 

"Then what the hell were you talking about, man? Cuz I can't see how else my place would turn into a crime scene." Was suicide a crime? Not one that could be prosecuted, that was for damn sure.

 

Warrick rolled his eyes, a gesture that riled Nick. How was he supposed to read Warrick's mind? "Gee, I dunno, b&e that went bad and prevented you from coming to work instead of moping around not taking care of yourself like you were," Warrick accused. Warrick was mad because Nick hadn't been taking care of himself? What did he care? "You scared us half to death, man."

 

Again. Death. Nick scowled, shoving at Warrick and then slipping past him, pushing at Warrick from the side just for good measure. Warrick merely turned, barely losing his balance. "Who the hell is 'us'?" Nick demanded, glaring at Warrick as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I'd think y'all'd be glad to finally have me outta there."

 

Exasperation wasn't a look Nick would recommend on Warrick. Maybe because it made Nick feel stupid and he didn't know why. "Goddammit, Stokes. You're blind as a fuckin' bat, aren't you?"

 

Well, he didn't have the sonar to have been warned of Warrick's impending attack this evening, so unfortunately, he didn't have much in common with a bat, no. "What the hell are you talking about, Brown?"

 

Warrick laughed then, a defeated sound that softened the defensive stance in Warrick's shoulders and legs. "You don't get it, do you?" Warrick shook his head, and Nick just waited. Waited for Warrick to tell him exactly what he didn't get, because obviously it was a mystery to him. "We're your friends, man. We're worried about you."

 

Worried about themselves was more like it. Nick was nothing but trouble and he knew it. It was better for him that he wasn't there anymore. "Define 'we'," he said anyway, his voice twisted with skepticism.

 

"Me, for one," Warrick replied, taking a step closer. Nick firmly resisted the urge to take a step back. Warrick hadn't attacked him; if anything, he was waiting for Nick to attack. He was on the offense, not the defense like Nick. And that was a good thing, because the both of them on the defensive was never productive. "Gil," Warrick continued, coming even closer. Nick held his ground, if shakily. "Cath, Sara, Archie. Greg."

 

"Sanders?" Nick repeated, surprised. "But I - pushed him." And invalidated him, too, by forgetting about the one event at the crime lab that defined Greg's experience in Vegas. Yet he'd stayed at the job, occupational hazards and all.

 

"Because you were scared, yeah."

 

Nick bristled at the accusation. "We were arguing. He wasn't attacking me." The way Warrick was, Nick finished silently, letting Warrick see the accusation in his glare. "What did I have to be scared of?"

 

"Thinking about what happened to you," Warrick replied, his voice maddeningly level. Was he right? Nick didn't remember thinking about what had happened to him - just thinking about thinking about it. He hadn't had a chance to fully form a thought before he'd jumped on Greg. "Letting anyone see how much it still affects you."

 

Nick stared at Warrick, trying hard not to think about that. "It's been less than six months. Of course it still affects me." How was he supposed to hide what was obvious?

 

As Warrick stared right back at him, though, it started to sink in that Warrick was right. He had been trying to hide it, from himself and everyone else. He'd been trying to act like he was over it, forcing his own recovery. Clearly, it wasn't working.

 

Warrick put a hand on his shoulder then and looked at him hard. Nick swallowed, trying not to fidget, but he wasn't used to putting his emotions on display. It didn't seem to matter, though, because Warrick was able to see right through him. He always had been, hadn't he? "Why don't you go clean up," Warrick suggested gently, and Nick relaxed. The inquisition was over. "Shave that shit off your face and I'll clean up out here."

 

The order could've been meant to provoke, but the tone made Nick realize it actually wasn't, and he smiled gratefully. Nick wasn't good at sharing his emotions or even dealing with them himself, and now that Warrick had knocked some sense into his head, he needed some way to recover from the unexpected introspection, and what better way to do that than follow orders? Besides, Warrick was offering to clean up the mess he'd made with breakfast - odd time of day for breakfast, but whatever - and Nick was too smart to argue with that.

 

"You better not disappear," Nick found himself saying on the way to the bathroom. He wasn't sure where that came from, except he didn't want to come out of the bathroom and find himself alone. He needed Warrick here to keep him from sinking back into depression.

 

"Oh, I won't," Warrick assured him. "'m gonna keep an eye on you, boy."

 

Nick flipped Warrick off as he left, but he made sure Warrick could see his smile, too. Not like it mattered; Warrick could read him like a book, and he wouldn't leave if he thought Nick was pissed. At the moment, though, it was more important to Nick that Warrick stay with Nick not being pissed. Nick wasn't sure how to thank him, though, so he just ducked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Maybe he could get some thinking done while he shaved.


	5. Chapter 5  Coddling and Ass Kicking

  
Author's notes: Warrick might just be exactly what Nick needs. After the subtext, of course.  


* * *

"That was fast."

 

Warrick had heard him come out of the bathroom, but Nick knew Warrick hadn't seen him yet. Nick was going to change that real fast. Striding confidently into the bedroom, Nick planted himself behind Warrick, grinning from ear to ear. "Whaddaya think?"

 

Warrick turned around then, jumping slightly as he took in Nick's face. Well, that wasn't very flattering. "I think you look like a damn hippie," Warrick accused. Nick resisted the temptation to pout, and reached up to affectionately stroke his new sideburns.

 

"What, I think they're kinda cool," he protested, and almost actually pouted when Warrick continued to shake his head. "Hey, you have sideburns," he pointed out accusingly.

 

"Sideburns are for hippies and people who have the face to pull it off," Warrick informed him somewhat smugly. He was pretty damn confident with himself.

 

"Oh, and I don't have the face to pull it off?" Nick didn't mean to come off as petulant, but the way he was standing there with his hands on his hips, he had a feeling that was the image he was projecting.

 

"No, and you ain't a hippie either." Warrick waved him toward the bathroom, turning his back on him. "Shave those things off." Nick started to head for the bathroom, then paused when Warrick spoke up again. "But keep the goatee for now," Warrick suggested, baffling Nick. "That look might actually work on you."

 

Nick hadn't been aware that Warrick was an expert on facial hair, but hey, he was the one who'd made Nick breakfast in bed even if he'd ended up throwing it all over the place. That was Nick's fault for talking about putting a bullet in his brain. Nick's hand slipped on the razor, and he scowled, balling up a piece of toilet paper to stop the bleeding. He really was out of practice.

 

Nick didn't say anything when he came out this time, just waited for Warrick to notice him. Warrick took his time before he spoke, nodding in approval as he stepped closer. "See, now you actually look badass."

 

Nick blushed. "You don't think it looks kinda gay?" Wait, why the hell had he just said that? He didn't think it looked gay, and he didn't even want to mention gayness around Warrick because if Warrick started bashing gays, then Nick was going to lose a friendship, whether he was out or not.

 

Warrick's expression didn't change. And if it did, it just got more blank. "I know plenty of women who would find it attractive," Warrick said neutrally. It was the straight man's duty to reassure his straight friend of his straightness, but that wasn't what Warrick's tone was implying. No, it was more of an inquisitive tone, and it made Nick shift nervously on his feet.

 

"You're just jealous Tina'll steal me away from you," he joked, then realized it had come out wrong. He was supposed to say that he'd steal Tina away from Warrick, but he'd had to go and make it sound gay, didn't he? Even though things would be a lot easier if Warrick knew he was gay, and was okay with it, but if he didn't and he wasn't, then Nick couldn't afford to slip up like that.

 

And Warrick - Warrick was prowling, stalking toward Nick like a predator hunting his prey. It had to be the way Warrick's hips swung back and forth as he walked and the intense green of his eyes that made Nick picture Warrick like a panther, crawling on his hands and knees toward Nick, ass swaying as he kept his eyes locked on his target. Nick gulped. Yeah, panther worked, but lioness was more appropriate, the way Warrick moved so slowly, each step and look calculated and barely detectable, reminding Nick of the lionesses on the Discovery Channel the moment before they leaped and tore apart their victims with their bare teeth and claws. Nick didn't share his commentary, though, certain that Warrick wouldn't appreciate being compared to a female, even if she was a powerful beast. And Nick could hardly compare Warrick to the lion instead of the lioness - the lion was the one who lied around waiting for the lioness to return from the hunt, lounging in the sun while his women made their kill. No, Warrick wasn't a lounger, he was a hunter. He was the one who made sure the job got done.

 

Nick was kind of weirded out by the way he was comparing Warrick to a big cat, and in such detail, but it wasn't like Warrick was giving him a choice. The way he was moving, well, that should be a crime. "Oh, I don't have to worry about you taking Tina away from me." Nick's heartrate sped up, and he waited for the next part, the part where Warrick said Tina should be worried about Nick taking Warrick away from her, but instead, Warrick's predatory demeanor deflated and the intensity in his eyes dulled. "She broke up with me."

 

"She - what?" Tina had broken up with him, and Warrick hadn't said a word in all these months? "When?"

 

"When I wouldn't stop carrying," Warrick shrugged, and Nick suddenly remembered the conversation. It was the day he'd been kidnapped, and Warrick had been going on about how he'd defied Tina by refusing to stop carrying his gun. "It's for the best," Warrick continued with another shrug. He was studying Nick's face now, and even though Nick knew all his questions were written in his skin, he couldn't read Warrick to save his life. "I think I'd rather be with someone who gets it, someone who carries his own piece, yanno?"

 

Nick was too damn busy nodding politely to catch on right away that Warrick had said his. He didn't know whether it was a figure of speech or if Warrick purposely wanted Nick to picture someone holding Warrick's piece, but suddenly, that was all he could think about. "I - wouldn't know," he finally managed, his heart stuttering out an uncertain beat. Nick didn't know if Warrick was being metaphorical or literal about the piece or the pronoun, but he was kind of hoping the pronoun was literal and the piece, not. "I uh, I mean, not that I don't want to," he stammered, not sure whether he was trying to let Warrick know he was okay with it if he right or actually telling Warrick that he, too, preferred someone else who, well, had the right equipment, "but I've never..." Nick searched for the right word, then let it out in a rush of air. "Been." Been. He'd never been. "With someone who, ah. Carried his own. Piece." Right. Air. Breathing. He should breathe.

 

Warrick frowned, looking more contemplative than anything else, but it still made Nick's heart skitter nervously and imaginary ants dance along his spine. "Is that what you want?" Warrick asked, and there was no denying the subtext of the conversation now. "Just anyone who carries his own piece, or someone specific?"

 

Nick couldn't imagine the courage it took Warrick to ask that question. Damn. Here they both were, putting themselves on the line. Nick had pretty much just told Warrick that one, he was a virgin, and two, he wanted cock, giving Warrick the perfect opportunity to take advantage of him, and instead, Warrick was concerned that Nick wanted him and not just anyone.

 

"I don't know," he said honestly. Nick wished he had a better answer, but it wasn't like he'd been aware that he'd wanted anything with Warrick in the first place. Sure, looking back, there clues that he was interested in Warrick, the way it was the man behind the grip who calmed him when they were digging him out of the ground, the way he'd been admiring Warrick's voice, the way he'd been watching Warrick stalk him. But did he want Warrick in particular, or was Warrick just... there? "I want someone I can trust," he said finally, honestly, because this was too important to lie about. "A friend, someone I can - fall in love with," he admitted, because even though it wasn't a very manly thing to say, it was what Nick wanted and he was laying all his cards out on the table. It wasn't like he had anything left to lose. "Someone who knows when to coddle me and when to kick my ass." And yeah, that pretty much perfectly described his relationship with Warrick.

 

The poker face slowly faded, something equally unreadable replacing it in Warrick's expression. Never before had Nick felt so exposed. If he'd been wrong, if he'd read the signs wrong, if he'd just fallen into a trap and shared way too much information with the wrong person...

 

He didn't want Warrick to be the wrong person. Not just because of the professional hazards. He was worried about the personal ones, as well; namely, losing his best friend.

 

"I think we should take it slow, then," Warrick finally said, subtext disappearing, an actual offer in its place. Nick's breathing stuttered to a stop before he remembered to take a breath again.

 

"Yeah," he agreed, all his doubts falling away. He did trust Warrick. And Warrick could trust him. "So, um." He couldn't think of anything to say, so he shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down at his toes. Only to look up again when Warrick grasped his jaw, tilting his face up until their eyes met.

 

"I can be pretty possessive," Warrick began, and Nick nodded in understanding. A warning. Letting him know what he was getting into. "Of the people I care about, especially my lovers. All of them," he emphasized.

 

"All of them," Nick repeated, holding back a snicker when he saw the seriousness of Warrick's eyes. "How many lovers do you have?" he asked, only half joking.

 

"That doesn't matter right now," Warrick said, and Nick's eyes widened. Whoa. Whoa. Warrick had other lovers, and he was coming onto Nick? Nick started to take a step back, but Warrick kept a firm grip on Nick's chin. And even though he could have easily gotten away, the look in Warrick's eyes held him in place. "What matters is that this is something I don't enter into lightly, and you shouldn't, either."

 

Warrick was saying... he was saying. Oh. "You want to take this really slow," he asked, seeking confirmation and receiving it with Warrick's nod. "I didn't - I don't-"

 

"I know this is a lot to process," Warrick said. "Which is why I don't want you to make a decision now." Well, hell. It was awfully nice of Warrick to be so kind as to - why was he being sarcastic? At least Warrick was warning him now instead of letting him in on the secret months down the road.

 

"Are they-" he began helplessly, not even sure what he was asking. Warrick shook his head.

 

"They're not just people I hooked up with." Okay. So apparently, that was what Nick was asking. "It's been going on for a few years, but we didn't decide to commit until - well, until Tina left me and I realized that I'd almost fucked it up and lost two really great guys." Oh. There were two of them, and they were both men, and Warrick had risked it with Tina. Nick probably would have, too; he didn't know anywhere near the whole story, but it seemed a lot easier to be in a normal relationship with a woman than in a triangle with two men, even in this city.

 

What really got Nick's attention, though, was that they were committed. The three of them. So why would Warrick want to risk that with him like he'd risked it with Tina? "So why do you want to risk what you have with them by coming onto me?"

 

Warrick gave him a funny look, and Nick had a feeling he was about to feel stupid again. "They know about you," Warrick clarified, his grip loosening on Nick's jaw. "They've known how I've felt about you for years."

 

"How you - feel about me?"

 

Exasperation again. Nick squirmed. "Did it ever occur to you that letting you stay with me after we arrested Crane and taking care of you after your kidnapping was more than just friendship?"

 

Holy hell. Warrick was right. That was an awful lot of friendship. "I figured you were just... protective," he admitted, though when he thought about it, it was kind of a stretch. "I mean, you tried to take care of Cath when she got attacked, and you were always going over to Sara's and Greg's after the explosion..." Nick was ashamed to remember that the biggest effect the explosion had had on him was that afterwards, he'd been bitter about how little he got to see Warrick because he was always taking care of his other friends. That should've been a clue right there, but maybe Nick used up too much of his empathy on other people to understand himself.

 

"I am protective," Warrick agreed with a nod. "That doesn't mean I practically move in with everyone I take care of."

 

Wow. Nick fought the smile twitching at his lips, but it was a futile effort. So he did mean something to Warrick, he wasn't just someone Warrick took care of. Wasn't just a charity case, either, and Warrick was right, a proposition like this wasn't something you could take lightly. A two-person relationship was a huge deal, at least for Nick; Warrick wouldn't be inviting Nick into it if it didn't mean something. With two lovers already, and Warrick talking about possessiveness and protection and taking things slowly, Warrick wasn't just looking for a hookup or another notch on his belt. He really did care about Nick, and Nick was frankly astonished that he'd done anything to earn that from a man like Warrick who should be satisfied with what he already had. The fact that Nick could add value to Warrick's life by being in it made him almost giddy.

 

Nick grinned and started to relax, missing the warmth of Warrick's hand on his chin but only until it settled on his shoulder. "So, huh. Do you live with them?" It seemed to go without saying that Warrick would stay with him until he was out of his little funk, and that was confidence Nick wasn't used to. It was confidence that gave him the freedom to be curious about Warrick's lifestyle.

 

"No, I still have my own place. They already lived together when I got with them. I'm not - ready to move in yet."

 

"But you're ready to practically move in with me," Nick teased, though part of it was for his own reassurance. Warrick didn't disappoint, but he did make Nick wait for an answer, sliding his hand up from Nick's shoulder to cup the side of his face.

 

"I've been ready for you for ten years," Warrick whispered, and Nick didn't want to believe it. Didn't want to believe that he could've had this all along and lost out on it because he was too chicken to be honest about who he was.

 

Warrick seemed about ready to kiss him, and even though Nick wanted it, he knew he couldn't accept it. Not until more questions were answered. "Warrick," he said softly, knowing he risked losing this by asking the questions he needed to ask, "were you just settling for them because you thought you couldn't have me?"

 

Warrick didn't hesitate. He shook his head, gazing intently at Nick as he answered. "No," he said firmly, his voice sending a shiver down Nick's spine. "It is possible to love more than one person at once. They taught me that," Warrick added almost nostalgically. "It took a while, but they managed to make me realize that they could love me even though they loved each other, and the way I felt about you didn't mean I loved them any less."

 

"Love," Nick murmured, amazed that he was standing here talking with another man about love. Men didn't talk about love. They weren't even supposed to be able to fall in love; love was just a trick men used to get women and weak-willed boys into bed. Just because Nick had wanted it didn't mean he hadn't hoped it was out there, but still. It was kind of hard to believe.

 

"Yeah," Warrick confirmed, a slow smile spreading his lips. Nick smiled back. "Stick with me and I can show you what they showed me."

 

Well, that offer was just too damned good to refuse. "All right," Nick agreed, even though it hadn't been a real question. "Where are we going?"

 

Warrick chuckled, then ran his knuckles down the side of Nick's face. Nick sighed contentedly. "Up to you," he said. "If you wanna stay here, I could probably manage to get the night off, but I know everyone at work would be glad to see you back," Warrick prompted.

 

Nick smiled. Now that he knew he'd be able to bring Warrick home whenever he wanted, there wasn't a question. And hey, they were taking it slow. "Let's show 'em I'm alive and well," Nick suggested, beaming. Here he'd thought they all wanted him gone, when really, if Warrick was to be believed, they'd been worried about him instead. And Warrick probably was to be believed, since Nick had the voicemails to prove that they'd been calling.

 

"A'right," Warrick said with an enthusiastic grin, then trailed a finger down one side of Nick's goatee. "You keepin' this?"

 

"Maybe just for tonight," he allowed, then winked. "If Greg calls it another mid-life crisis, I'll just blame you."

 

Warrick laughed. "You do that," he said, "and I'll shave you in your sleep."

 

Nick raised his eyebrows. "Now, cmon," he protested, more to play with Warrick than anything else. "You don't wanna make me make you bald next time you fall asleep, do you?"

 

Warrick seemed to consider that, then smiled. "Nah." Grinning, Warrick looped an arm around Nick's shoulders, and turned him around to face the dresser. "Now, let's get you ready for work."

 

Yeah, Nick could live with Warrick taking care of him. Warrick would give him what he needed, would know just how much coddling and ass-kicking to dole out, and that was pretty much what Nick needed right now.

 

Warrick.


	6. Chapter 6  Breathless

  
Author's notes: Nick joins Warrick on a case of strangulation.  


* * *

The first thing Nick wanted to do when he got back to work was apologize to Greg, but politics dictated that he check in with human resources first, then his boss. Which meant a meeting with Gil, and trying to figure out how exactly to explain his behavior.

 

He and Warrick had actually shown up in time, so Gil was busy handing out assignments. Warrick had joined everyone else in the conference while Nick had been getting everything straightened out with HR, so instead of interrupting, he slipped away to wait in Gil's office.

 

It was a half hour before Gil returned. He seemed to be engrossed in the content of the papers he was holding, but Nick knew better. Gil knew he was there, he was just biding his time until he figured out what to say.

 

Nick decided to start. "Gil, I... I'm sorry about the way I lost it last time I was here. I shouldn't have acted like that and if you wanna make me do anger management or whatever, well, I guess I deserve it. I just... well, I thought I was fired, but they said I wasn't, so I guess, I'm here. If you think I should take more vacation time, I can do that too, I just..." Nick frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. "I never meant to disappoint you. I guess I just... snapped."

 

For all the rambling he'd just done, Gil just looked mildly at him, that expression that meant 'Are you finished?' Nick resisted the urge to slide down in his seat. Gil always used words sparingly, not saying any more than he needed to. And Nick just rambled on, hoping to say the right thing.

 

"You'll continue your weekly counseling sessions and you'll do two weeks of anger management. I wasn't going to suggest that, but now that you mention it, I think it would be helpful."

 

Shit. He knew he'd said too much.

 

"As for taking more time, you need to be the judge of whether you're ready to come back or not. Since you've used up all your vacation time, you won't be able to take any more paid leave."

 

Nick rubbed at his chin, frowning at the unfamiliar feeling of facial hair under his fingers. "No, I'm here to stay," he said determinedly. He hadn't come back just to leave again, and if Gil trusted his judgment, he wasn't going to change his mind.

 

"Good." Gil nodded, looking satisfied with his decision, then handed Nick one of the papers he'd been looking at when he'd first walked into the office. "Now, I know you're back in an official capacity, but we don't have anything new right now. Warrick's been working a homicide. Julian Harper."

 

Nick raised his eyebrows. The name was familiar, but the only Julian Harper Nick could think of was the actor. "The Julian Harper?"

 

Gil nodded, and handed Nick some crime scene photos. Nick tried not to stare, but seriously, how did a guy have a right to look that good even when he was dead?

 

"Oh, good, you're here," Gil said. Nick followed Gil's gaze over his shoulder to where Warrick was leaning in the doorway, flashing Nick an encouraging smile before he looked back at Gil.

 

"Yeah, Greg just paged me. Says he figured out what the fibers were."

 

"So?" Gil sounded exasperated. "Why aren't you checking with him in the lab?"

 

Nick wanted to interject, ask why Greg was in the lab when he should be in the field, but Warrick was already answering, his voice agitated. "You said you were putting Nick on this one with me. I thought you'd want him to be there too...?"

 

When Nick looked back, Gil was blinking, looking like he'd forgotten something. "Oh, right," he agreed, shaking his head. "Uh, Nick," Gil said, drawing Nick's attention again. "Have Warrick catch you up on the case."

 

"Primary?"

 

Gil nodded, then pointed at Warrick. "But he's standing right there, so you should ask him, not me."

 

Nick smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry."

 

Warrick went through the motions of catching him up on the case as they made the brief trip down the corridors, but Nick was distracted. He wished he'd had a chance to talk to Greg alone before seeing him regarding a case, just so he could apologize and make sure things were okay with them. Nick had had a lot of time to think, before and after Warrick had shown up to kick some sense into him, and he was sure Greg had to pissed even more knowing that Nick hadn't even remembered the explosion. It may have happened a long time ago, but Greg was clearly still affected by it. Heck, Nick didn't know if he'd be over his kidnapping in three years. Why should he expect Greg to be over the explosion after a set amount of time?

 

"I thought you were in the field," Warrick said as they entered Greg's lab. Nick was silent, though he'd been thinking the same thing. He hardly had the right to question Greg after what he'd done. "What's goin' on here?"

 

"I'm doing this as a favor for Ecklie," Greg informed them, none too enthusiastically. "It's a one-time thing. He's still interviewing lab techs."

 

A favor for Ecklie? Nick exchanged a glance with Warrick, but stayed silent. Warrick was the one who replied. "You makin' overtime?"

 

"No," Greg said stiffly. "I'm takin' one for the team."

 

"Mmmhm," Warrick commented noncommitally. Normally, that would've been a cue for Nick and Warrick to rib Greg, but Greg didn't sound like he'd take it well and Nick wasn't about to do anything else to piss Greg off. "Tell me about the pantyhose."

 

Nick tried to remember what Warrick had said about the pantyhose, but he was lost. Pantyhose? Dead actor? Greg in the lab? Doing favors for Ecklie? Yeah, Nick was sadly lost.

 

"Well, I found Tally's epithelials on the inside, which is no surprise since she was wearing them." Greg paused, giving Warrick a chance to look through the microscope. "I also found black cotton fibers on the outside - highest concentration near the crotch. Insert joke here."

 

Nick didn't insert a joke, but he did remember something Warrick had mentioned. "The vic had a pair of black cotton socks." So he'd - played footsie with his date's crotch?

 

"Well, I did find black cotton fibers under his chin," Warrick inserted. Nick frowned. Julian Harper had played footsie with his date's crotch, then she'd... sat on his neck?

 

"Secondary transfer?"

 

Greg shook his head. "Padding. The sock was between the pantyhose and the neck, and Tally wasn't wearing them when the transfer was made." Nick was really confused. The socks were... padding for the pantyhose, at the crotch, under Harper's chin. Wait - what was the cause of death again? "Bcp, breath control play. Couples control their partner's pleasure through strangulation. And if you're not careful, it leaves marks."

 

"If you're not careful, it leaves asphyxiation," Nick muttered. Greg glared at him.

 

"Thank you, Einstein." Greg turned away from Nick to look at Warrick, no longer glaring. Nick guessed he deserved that.

 

"Yeah, this guy's an actor, so I'm sure he wouldn't want bruises on his neck to be showing on camera," Warrick commented, getting back to the case at hand. Greg nodded. "There were only two girls in the suite... so which one of them killed him?"

 

"It might not have been either of them," Greg said just as they were turning around to leave. Nick turned back, looking at Greg over Warrick's shoulder. "Some people do it solo."

 

Solitairy strangulation? Nick didn't even want to know. "We'll keep that in mind," he said, wondering if he could linger and talk to Greg, try to apologize for the way he'd acted the week before. But Warrick wanted to get back to the evidence, and Nick didn't even know where to start.

 

At least looking over the evidence and any driving they might do would give him a chance to mull it over. Somehow, Nick would figure out how to apologize for how he'd treated Greg.

 

Right after they figured out who'd killed Julian Harper.

 

***

"I just don't get it, man." Nick was supposed to be figuring out how to apologize to Greg, but he couldn't stop thinking about the circumstances of their vic's death. It seemed like a leap to think that a person would willingly let someone strangle them, even more of a leap to think that a person would strangle himself. Why would that be the automatic assumption? "I mean, seriously," Nick continued, shaking his head. "Just because there was padding doesn't mean it was consensual. Who would agree to something like that? What - how can Greg assume that just because there was padding, it was automatically breath... whatever, I mean, maybe the padding was just there doesn't mean the guy wanted to be strangled. Maybe whoever killed him just put the padding there so there wouldn't be any bruising so we wouldn't figure out the real cause of death?"

 

Warrick continued to drive silently, not even nodding to agree with Nick. Why wasn't Warrick questioining Greg's diagnosis, too? When Warrick finally answered, his tone was blank, and his words weren't the ones Nick wanted to hear. "Is it so hard for you to believe that some people might enjoy the risk?"

 

The risk. The risk of dying? "Yes," he said firmly. "Yes, it is. I know what it's like not to have any air, man. It's not enjoyable. All you wanna do is die. All I wanted to do..." Nick let his voice trail off as he turned to stare out the window at the neon lights flashing by. All he'd wanted to do was get some air, but since he'd thought that wasn't possible, he'd wanted to end his own suffering. Nick closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the cool window. He needed to get away from that place, the space in his mind where he was back underground.

 

Warrick's hand on his knee should've been comforting, but Nick didn't want to feel it. He didn't want to feel anything right now. He just wanted to be numb to the memories.

 

"You gonna be okay?"

 

"Yeah." Nick swallowed. Numb as he wanted to be, he couldn't ignore the depth of concern in Warrick's voice, the hint of something that might be guilt. For making him think about it? When did he not think about it? "Yeah, I'm fine," he reassured Warrick, pushing away from the window to smile at his friend. "I'm good, really. I think - I just can't understand it. And maybe that makes me a bad CSI, but..." Nick shrugged. "I'm not gonna pretend to understand when I don't."

 

"Hey, no one said you have to," Warrick said gently. "Sometimes it helps to understand the victim's motives as well as the perp's, but it's not our job to understand. It's our job to process the evidence, and figure out who's guilty of a crime."

 

"I know that," Nick confirmed with a nod. "I know, I just... my interpretation of the evidence after Greg told us about the fibers was way different than Greg's. I never would've thought of padding. What - what would make Greg think it was something like that when I wouldn't?"

 

Nick hardly thought that he and Greg had the same life experience in, well, anything, but Greg was always coming up with stuff Nick would never have considered. Like the time they'd found a scuba diver in a tree, and Doc had found soap on the inside of the suit, and Greg knew right away that it was liquid dishwashing soap used to help the suit slide more easily onto the skin. Or the time they'd found a strange substance on the victim they'd found in a sandbox and Greg knew it was liquid latex, 'all the craze', Greg had informed him. Girls paint it on guys, guys paint it on girls, you can paint it on yourself if you want if you can't get a date. Not that I would know about that, Greg had finished smugly.

 

It was difficult to know how much Greg knew from experience and how much he knew from media. Television, scientific journals, mystery books... tabloids. Greg kept tabloids and porn in his lab, and he never got in trouble for it. Nick didn't even have porn in his house... well, okay, he did sometimes jerk off to male underwear catalogues, but that wasn't really porn, that was just... hot scantily clad guys. And why was Nick thinking about porn, anyway?

 

"If everyone thought the same way, we'd have a lot less crimes," Warrick pointed out. "Or more, depending on the thought process."

 

Nick nodded. What Warrick was saying made sense, but... it also didn't explain why Greg had come to the conclusion he had. "Okay," he conceded, "but there's a reason I thought 'murder' and Greg thought 'breath'... whatever."

 

"Breath control play," Warrick reminded him, and Nick had to shake his head. Controlling someone's breath shouldn't be a game, but that was what the word 'play' implied. How could something so dangerous have such an innocuous name? "Here's the thing. Stranging someone is a pretty personal way to kill them, right?"

 

"If you say so..."

 

Warrick shrugged. "Okay, let's say it's a crime of passion. If it was a professional hit, do they usually strangle the guy?"

 

"No." Nick had been a CSI for long enough to know that. "They'd shoot 'im or make a car crash look like an accident."

 

"Exactly," Warrick said. "Premeditation, covering up the crime. If Julian Harper was strangled because someone wanted him dead, it would've been personal. Not premeditated."

 

Nick was starting to see where Warrick was going with this. "So they wouldn't have taken the time to use padding," he finished with a nod. "And they would've used their hands, not pantyhose."

 

"Well, you use whatever's available, but yeah. If they just wanted him dead, they would've used the pantyhose without the padding. As long as they used gloves, there wouldn't have been any epithelials on the pantyhose, which means no suspect except the wearer. And you'd have to be pretty stupid to kill a guy with your own pantyhose."

 

"Yeah, well." Nick smirked. "We've come across our share of stupid."

 

"Yeah," Warrick laughed. "We sure have."

 

Nick was silent for a moment, thinking over everything Warrick had said. So, maybe he didn't understand why anyone would want to be strangled, alone or while having sex with someone, but he was starting to see how Greg could assume that it was something consensual that just went wrong. "So, you think it's an accident?"

 

Warrick nodded. "Yeah," he sighed. "An unfortunate accident."

 

Nick sighed, too. There were some things he would never understand, no matter how empathetic he tried to be.

 

***

 

Barely an hour later, they were driving back to the crime lab, more sober than before. The best friend - who Nick was still convinced was more than just friends with Harper - had copped to finding Julian hanging from the lamp, a result of breath control play gone wrong. He'd seemed sincere, but no matter how sincere Nick thought he was, he never would've believed there wasn't foul play if Warrick hadn't talked him through it on the way back to the hotel room.

 

It was tragic. A tragic accident that had Nick wondering more than ever why someone would risk their life for that kind of thrill. Except when he thought about it that way, he remembered the Maurer case with the paragliders who'd competed to the very end. And even though they'd just finished a case where a guy had died in the sky, Nick had gone paragliding anyway. Not my kinda thrill, bro, Warrick had said when he'd declined Nick's invitation to come along, and Nick had shrugged and gone to the mountain alone.

 

Maurer had died because someone had tampered with his instruments and he couldn't trust his instincts so high in the air - Nick didn't have any enemies, not anymore then, and not yet, and he'd checked his altimeter before he took off. He knew the risks and he'd done his homework before he flew off the edge of the cliff, but for all the technical aspects and his efforts to stay safe, when he'd been flying, the air had been the only thing under, over, and around him. He'd let go of the comfort of keeping his feet on the ground and he'd glided through the air, nothing but a harness and some manmade wings keeping him from plummetting thousands of feet to the ground. He'd been scared as hell but part of that fear had been the thrill, and...

 

And yeah. Maybe he could understand. Maybe people got their thrills different ways, just like people thought in different ways. Just like Nick's thrill had been paragliding and Warrick's wasn't, just like Gil's thrill was rollercoasters and Greg's was... well, his attempt to impress and shock them with his knowledge of the kinkier side of life. Sara liked to listen to police scanners, Warrick liked to gamble, and Nick just liked to be himself, taking his thrills few and far between.

 

But he understood. And Nick was the most at ease with the world around him when he understood why people did what they did.

 

***

 

Greg nodded solemnly when they told him the results of their investigation, how Harper had accidentally killed himself. "Autoerotic asphyxiation," Greg said, more big, shocking words but no wicked grin to go along with it. Nick didn't know what had happened to that grin, whether Greg was still mad at Nick or if he was just always solemn like this now. It was familiar, Greg's quiet, nonprovocative behavior, but not familiar from Greg. It reminded Nick of himself, how much he'd hidden inside himself these last few months, and he started to wonder if Greg had been depressed, too. "That's why you should always use a safety release."

 

Safety release... Nick frowned at the back of Greg's head, started to ask what he meant by that, but Greg started to leave the break room. Nick stood up to follow him, then fell back with a yelp when fingers pinched the cartilage of his upper ear. "Ow," he protested, turning around and wincing when the movement made Warrick's hand pull harder on his ear. Warrick didn't seem to mean to still be hurting him, though, because he pulled his hand back apologetically. "Dammit, Warrick, that hurt," he complained, bringing his hand up to rub his ear.

 

"Sorry," Warrick muttered, shaking his head as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I - wasn't thinking."

 

Nick frowned. "Why'd you do it, then?" Jeez, he had to talk to Greg, find out what he meant by a safety release and, more importantly, talk about what had happened a week ago.

 

"You were gonna go after him," Warrick said, then stopped. Nick raised his eyebrows. Okay, so he was going to go after Greg - so what? "Look, he doesn't need you being judgmental right now."

 

"Judgmental..." Still frowning, Nick shook his head. Maybe he should've been offended, but he was more confused by Warrick's comment. "What would I have to be - wait." Warrick was looking a little guilty, but he quickly hid it. "Does Greg - does he do that stuff? How do you know?"

 

Warrick said nothing, showed nothing in his expression. Damn that poker face. Except - except Warrick only used that poker face when he had something to hide, and if Warrick had something to hide, that blank look was as much a tell as if it had been written all over his face.

 

"Oh, man," Nick drawled, taking a step closer. Warrick's hand was still on the back of his neck, and he was averting his gaze, which wasn't like Warrick at all. Shit - Warrick knew something, and Nick was right. It all made sense now - everything Greg knew about the breath control play, how Warrick had known exactly what to say to make Nick understand Greg's interpretation of the evidence, Warrick being defensive on Greg's behalf, Warrick being protective of Greg. Of course. "He's one of them, isn't he," Nick said breathlessly, all the puzzle pieces falling into place. He didn't say lover, not when they were at work, but he knew. Oh, he knew.

 

"Not here," Warrick said firmly, still not looking at Nick. "Not now."

 

"No, no, I know," Nick said, barely containing his excitement. He didn't know why he was so excited, except that damn, he'd figured it out. Warrick and Greg? Who would've thought? "It's - look, is Greg - he's okay, right? He's not hurting himself?"

 

Warrick finally looked up, his face creased with confusion. "You're not mad?"

 

"What? Why would I be mad?" Nick shrugged. He didn't care if Warrick was sleeping with Greg. He already knew Warrick was sleeping with two people, people he was committed to and protective of. The protectiveness - that was one thing Nick really liked about Warrick. "I just wanna make sure Greg doesn't hurt himself."

 

Warrick stared at him long and hard, then after what seemed like hours, he finally nodded. "Come by my place after work, and we'll talk."

 

"Greg too?"

 

Warrick chuckled, shaking his head in what was probably disbelief. "Yeah, man. Greg too."

 

"All right." Nick nodded. "I still have to apologize to him about last week."

 

"Yeah, you do," Warrick said thoughtfully. "You can do that when we get there, just - give him some time to stew, okay? This case has been rough on him."

 

Yeah. Nick could see why. "Yeah, of course. I'll just meet you at your place after work."

 

Warrick nodded, a new expression masking his features. It wasn't a poker face, it was something different, something Nick realized he'd seen before but never actually let himself see. Tenderness disguised by professionalism, maybe even a little admiration hidden under Warrick's surprise. It occurred to Nick that Warrick couldn't comprehend how well Nick was taking all these new developments, but in time, he would. And fortunately for Nick, they had all the time in the world.

 

***

Nick wanted to kiss Warrick. It was a thought that had been dancing around in his mind ever since he'd learned about Warrick's feelings for him. It wasn't the first time he'd thought about kissing Warrick; the difference was that before, those thoughts had always been part of jerkoff fantasies, fantasies like those Nick had been having about friends, coworkers, and crushes all his life.

 

And it was different now. This was a specific desire to kiss a specific person, and for the first time, there was a good chance that not only would Nick go through with it, but that it would also be accepted. Nick wasn't technically a virgin; he'd had sex with plenty of women, but that didn't amount to much, what with him being gay and all.

 

But before he kissed Warrick, they had to talk; not just he and Warrick, but he and Warrick and Greg. Had it been just the two of them, Nick would've left the talking for later and gone straight for the kissing. But Greg would be there soon, and Nick didn't want his first kiss with Warrick to have to be interrupted.

 

He joined Warrick in the kitchen, leaning back against the island in the middle of the room. Warrick poured a cup of coffee for each of them, handing Nick's to him first, then leaned back against the counter in a casual pose. "Hey," he said conversationally, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

 

Nick smiled back. "Hey." The coffee was warming his hands, and he didn't even know he'd been cold. "How long till Greg gets here?"

 

Warrick shook his head. "He's not coming," Warrick murmured, taking a sip of his coffee. "Too late notice, he needed to be with - his partner."

 

Nick noticed the hesitation, the way the course of Warrick's sentence changed, but he couldn't tell if it was because Warrick didn't want him to know who Greg's partner was, or because it wasn't a name Nick would recognize. In any case, Nick could understand. "He gonna be okay?"

 

"Greg? Yeah." Warrick waved off the idea that Greg might not be okay with a wave of his hand and a confident smirk that said, 'He'll be fine.' "He knows what you wanted to talk about, said I should answer any questions you had."

 

Questions - Nick had a lot of questions. But he had a feeling Greg wasn't talking about relationship questions when he'd told Warrick to answer for him. "About the bcp, you mean?"

 

"About whatever," Warrick said with a shrug. Nick licked his lips, then decided to ask the one question that had been at the forefront of his mind for most of the previous week.

 

"Is he still mad at me?" Nick still hadn't gotten a chance to apologize, but as much as he wanted to, he wasn't going to interrupt Greg's morning with his partner to do so. There would be time for that later; at least Greg knew he wanted to talk.

 

Warrick shook his head, smiling slightly. "He's not mad at you. Actually," Warrick commented, "he doesn't know why you're not mad at him."

 

"But he didn't do anything."

 

Warrick shrugged. "I don't know. I can't speak for him when it comes to that."

 

Nick nodded, understanding. Even though Warrick had permission to speak for Greg, that didn't mean he knew what to say. Nick would rather hear it straight from Greg rather than have Warrick attempt to answer and possibly be wrong. "I'll talk to him." Nick already planned to, but it didn't hurt to reiterate the fact. Now, all that was left to ask about the bcp, and once he was sure Greg was okay, maybe he could get back to his goal of kissing Warrick. "What can you tell me about the bcp?"

 

Warrick dropped his eyes then, looking thoughtfully into his coffee cup. Probably trying to decide how much information to give, Nick surmised. "He used to do it on his own," Warrick began, still staring at his coffee. "I found him doing it once. He'd just passed out, the safety release had worked, thank God."

 

Nick knew his eyes were wide, but he couldn't imagine it. Greg had really done it, and he'd really used a safety release. And even though Nick knew he had no right to tell Greg what to do with his life, hearing about how he'd passed out just made Nick want to go over to Greg's place and tell him to never, ever do it again. No wonder Warrick had stopped him from going after Greg. He would've been just as judgmental as Warrick worried he would. "Was it - bad?" What kind of question was that? Of course it was bad, it had to be, finding Greg passed out. Nick hadn't realized it was done to that extent.

 

"Very," Warrick said shortly, and the way he said it, Nick knew there wouldn't be any more details. Probably because Warrick didn't want to think about it, and Nick was relieved, because he was probably better off not being able to picture it himself. "I went all intervention on his ass. He didn't talk to me for a month, except when we were at work and he had to."

 

Intervention. Yeah, that was about as bad as Nick being judgmental. Probably worse, from Greg's point of view. "Did it work? Were you two together then?" Both questions came out at once, mostly because Nick thought of them at the same time.

 

"Nah, we weren't together then. We'd been hanging out a lot, going out for breakfast and playing video games."

 

Nick nodded - that was like him and Archie. Made him wonder if Archie was into stuff he didn't know about. "What about his partner?" he asked, before Warrick could get to the part about whether the intervention had worked. Either it had, or Greg had been very careful, because he wasn't dead yet. Weird how much Nick had been thinking about death lately.

 

"They were... dating," Warrick said after a moment. "As for whether it worked or not, he doesn't do the autoerotic asphyxiation anymore." Warrick took a gulp of his coffee, exhaling loudly when he was done. For the first time during the conversation about bcp, Warrick actually looked up at him. "Now his partner does it for him."

 

...damn. "He..."

 

Warrick shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, man. I couldn't do it, but they say they're careful, and I gotta trust their judgment. Not like I have a choice." Nick shook his head. It had to hurt Warrick, knowing that the people he loved were participating in unnecessarily risky behavior and knowing that he couldn't do anything about. It made Nick want to shake Greg, ask him how he could hurt Warrick like that by hurting himself. "He's asked me to do it for him. I wouldn't."

 

Well, that was a relief. At least there was one sane person in the relationship, and the thought made Nick frown. He didn't want to think about Greg that way, or anyone Warrick cared about that way. It was just a gut reaction.

 

There were plenty of things he could tell himself to justify Greg's behavior. Like the fact that they all took risks in their line of work, but that didn't make it any easier to think additional risks were okay.

 

Warrick sighed. "It's not as bad as when he did it alone, though. No strangling." Nick furrowed his eyebrows at that, confused. How could they do breath control play without strangling? It should probably be obvious, but Nick just didn't think that way.

 

"What, he gets suffocated with a pillow?"

 

"No, no." Warrick shook his head. He seemed a little more relaxed about the whole thing now. Nick took that as a good sign. "No accessories, no strangling. We... have an agreement."

 

"An agreement?"

 

"Yeah," Warrick nodded. "A contract. We wrote out the terms of what we expected of each other, and we all signed it. Some people might think it's a little excessive, but it makes all of us feel a little safer." Warrick raised the coffee cup to his mouth, then frowned. A moment later he turned to refill it, and turned back to look at Nick again. "That's one of the things they agreed to. Well, two."

 

"So how do they do it without accessories or strangling?"

 

"He pinches Greg's nose," Warrick said simply. Nick waited for more, but nothing more was said.

 

"...that's it?"

 

"Uh huh. He holds Greg's nose so he can only breathe through his mouth. It's up to Greg to decide how long he holds his breath. Even if he wants to hold it long enough to pass out, his brain will make him open his mouth."

 

Nick could almost think that with a lot of time, and a lot of testimony, he might, might be able to understand the thrill of being strangled. But to have to hold your own breath until you just couldn't hold it anymore, that seemed like too much effort to be enjoyable even for the people who got off on the high of losing oxygen to the brain. "Doesn't that take a lot of control? What's the point?"

 

Warrick shrugged. "Greg's version of Fear Factor, I guess. He likes to push himself to the limit."

 

Strangely enough, Nick could see that. At least, he could see Greg doing driving or swimming stunts, but that was only two thirds of the game. "Does he break into Grissom's office and eat his bugs, too?" he joked, earning a snort from Warrick.

 

"I think that's a little extreme even for Greg," Warrick agreed. "But I doubt he's the type to back down from a dare."

 

Nick smirked. "You're one to talk." Warrick was as competetive as people came. So was Nick, so he wasn't really one to talk, either, but he doubted he or Warrick would be eating candied insects for fun.

 

"Uh huh," Warrick said, a hint of a challenge in his voice. Nick laughed.

 

He'd really rather laugh with Warrick than talk about bcp anymore. He needed time to sort everything out in his mind, figure out what exactly he was going to say next time he saw Greg. He liked that Greg's behavior was a lot less risky now, and that it seemed Warrick and his partners compromised for one another. It made Nick feel safe that if and when he became involved with Warrick as deeply as Warrick was involved with his other lovers, that they'd compromise for each other, to keep each other safe and happy.

 

And Nick was right back where he'd started, admiring Warrick for doing the right thing for his lovers even if it meant alienating them for a while. Warrick had risked losing Greg's friendship by intervening with his behavior, but he'd done it anyway because he cared about Greg. And Nick knew he was damn lucky to be a part of Warrick's life the way he was, to be loved like a man like that. A man like Warrick.

 

That was all it took for Nick not to be thinking about bcp anymore, about Greg or Greg's partner or the risks they took on the job or at home. There was one risk Nick had to take, except the odds were very much in his favor, and that confidence was probably why it was for so easy for Nick to take the three steps from the island to the counter and kiss Warrick for the first time. The first time he'd kissed a man, and it was Warrick, and it was good.

 

Warrick looked a little surprised, actually, his eyes widening for a bit before they drifted half-shut and Nick got to study the brown-flecked green of Warrick's eyes more closely than he had before. There was a soft clunk when Warrick put down his coffee cup, and Nick did the same, bringing his hands up to touch Warrick's face before he started wondering if he was touching Warrick too much like the way he'd always touched the women he'd kissed, soft and careful and gentle. But then Warrick touched his face, and it was different, better, Warrick's palms pressing warm and firm against each side of his face, holding him there in that moment. Nick sighed into Warrick's mouth, relaxing with the success of his gamble, his previously tense shoulders dropping a little as he dropped his arms to wrap around Warrick's waist the way he really wanted to.

 

He pulled away before Warrick did, content with the way the kiss had progressed and ended. If he let it go on any longer, he'd be wanting to go to bed with Warrick, and Warrick had said he wanted to take things slow. Which Nick didn't mind, at all. "So," he said thoughtfully, "got any plans for breakfast?"

 

Warrick chuckled against his lips, stroking his thumbs from temple to jaw, where Nick's unapproved sideburns had been before he'd shaved them off. "I got cereal," Warrick offered, but it looked like he was hungry for something else.

 

Okay, maybe not that slow. Nick smiled. "Sounds good to me." Other things sounded good to him, too. And maybe he'd get the courage to ask for them, right after breakfast.

 

***

Most men would be proud to have the experience Nick did, he reminded himself; the only problem was that those men were straight.

Archived: CSI-Forensics, CSI slash, Oh No Nicky, Warrickfic

 

 

Usually when Nick ate breakfast, he was focused on the food. Not today. He was focused on Warrick, and on figuring out what to ask for, and how to ask for it. Warrick looked slightly amused by Nick's obvious thoughtfulness, and Nick was certain that Warrick could read his mind. If nothing else, Warrick had to know kind of what he was thinking about, because every once in a while a particularly detailed image would pop into Nick's head, and his face and ears would heat up at the thought.

 

By the time they were finished, he still didn't have anything specific in mind, just more kissing and whatever would come of that. Remembering how easily Warrick had responded to the kiss, and how long he'd had feelings for Nick, Nick decided to just go with his gut, and followed Warrick to the kitchen sink, where Warrick had started to rinse out their dishes.

 

This was a first for Nick too, initiating a kiss as casually and domestically as if they'd been doing this for years, sampling the back of Warrick's neck with his lips and tongue as Warrick washed the dishes. It was no surprise when Warrick's arms stopped moving, abandoning the after-breakfast chore to turn around in Nick's arms, pressing a kiss to Nick's lips with a gentle smile. Expected but not, because Nick knew if someone came up behind him and started kissing him, he'd probably freak out and go on the defensive, feeling attacked. But Warrick wasn't as skittery as Nick could be, and he was a lot more experienced than Nick, too. Nick was hoping that would come in handy later.

 

"Nick," Warrick said quietly, taking Nick's face in his hands. "We gotta talk about this before we go any further."

 

Talk? This from Warrick, who'd always been a man of actions first and a man of words second? Sure, part of Nick's surprise was disappointment; he didn't want to talk, didn't want to discuss anything, and most importantly, he didn't want to stop kissing Warrick. But Warrick must have his reasons for needing to talk, and Nick agreed with a slight nod, doing his level best not to pout.

 

"It's okay," Warrick chuckled, the hint of amusement in his voice and expression more comforting than insulting. It meant Warrick wasn't going to say that they couldn't have sex or anything like that. Warrick just meant to reassure him, though of what, Nick couldn't guess. "I just want to know how much you've done before we rush into anything."

 

So, for all Warrick's talk about going slow, he really didn't want to go that slow, either. He didn't want to rush it, which was fine, but he expected Nick to tell him what he'd done. Which was really not a lot. Nick found himself blushing again, and had to resist the urge not to avert his gaze out of manly embarassment. Most men would be proud to have the experience Nick did, he reminded himself; the only problem was that those men were straight. Nick had done well for a straight man his age, but unfortunately, he wasn't straight. He was gay, and his experience with men was sadly inadequate.

 

"Not much, really," he admitted, telling himself that at least Warrick wouldn't rush to judgment the way Nick had about Greg's participation in bcp. Then again, if Warrick wanted to do an intervention for Nick's virginity, that sounded pretty damn fine to Nick. "I've had sex with women." It was necessary to say that, to at least save face in that aspect. He wasn't completely inexperienced. Just mostly.

 

Warrick nodded slowly, scrutinizing Nick's expression for a while before he spoke. "So I'm assuming you haven't had sex with men."

 

Nick's face was going to be red for a while. "Um, no. Haven't even kissed a guy until today." Warrick raised his eyebrows at that, and Nick wanted to hide. Well, he'd said it. Made it clear exactly how much of a virgin he was, and he was going to die of embarassment.

 

"Okay," Warrick finally said, his thoughtful tone not relaxing Nick any. "So that eliminates a few possibilities."

 

Right. Like Warrick fucking Nick, although Warrick was too tactful to say that out loud. Nick got it. "Probably, yeah." Nick would like to think it wouldn't be a big deal, but he knew it was. Too much for him to go from his first kiss to his first time getting fucked, but if Warrick wanted Nick to fuck him, he wouldn't complain.

 

Warrick kept watching him, studying him, probably trying to decide just how detailed to be in his investigation of how much experience Nick had had and how much he was ready for. It would be easy to say he could be ready for anything, but Nick knew the reality wouldn't be anything like the fantasy. It hadn't even been smooth sailing the first several times he'd had sex with women. He didn't want it to be like that with Warrick.

 

"It's never really... worked for me." Nick chewed the inside of his cheek, ignoring the self-conscious feeling he got when he realized how that sounded. "I mean, I don't think I've ever been able to... make it work for them. You know what I mean. Or - don't. You probably don't," Nick fumbled. Of course Warrick knew how to do a woman right. Just because Nick couldn't didn't mean Warrick couldn't. But Warrick just grinned.

 

"Nick, every guy on the face of the earth knows what you mean," Warrick reassured him. Nick didn't really think he believed Warrick, but he appreciated the thought. "Trust me, you're not the first."

 

"And not the last, right?" he asked with a weak smile. So, at least Warrick didn't seem to mind Nick's lack of confidence, or Nick's doubtful ability. "Okay, so - that gets us where?"

 

"Wherever you want it to go," Warrick said easily, and he was making Nick's head hurt. Nick didn't know what to do, whether he should suggest something specific or do something specific, or just let Warrick decide what to do.

 

Which, really, would probably be the easiest thing. "Can we just play it by ear?" he asked, a bit sheepish. "See where it goes, and if it's too much, I can just tell you?"

 

Warrick looked ready answer, then seemed to pull himself back. He didn't move at all, but his expression changed, his apparent readiness to speak. "Sure," he finally agreed. Nick frowned.

 

"What were you going to say?"

 

Warrick hesitated for a moment before answering, and Nick was standing close enough to think he saw a blush darkening Warrick's skin. "I was gonna suggest safe words," he admitted, and took a hand from Nick's face to rub the back of his own neck. Warrick seemed to do that when he was uncertain. "But - we don't need those."

 

"Why would we?" Nick couldn't help asking, too curious for his own good. He hadn't heard of safewords for a long time, and when he had, it had only been in passing, when he'd been learning about the work one of their victims had done for Lady Heather.

 

Warrick shrugged, still rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarassed. "Sometimes you need them when you're doing a scene," Warrick began, angling his eyebrows in concentration. "When 'no' doesn't really mean 'no'."

 

"Ah," Nick answered, starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together. It didn't seem like something Warrick was comfortable talking about, at least not with him, and Nick suspected Greg's influence. "Like when you're doing breath control play."

 

At least Warrick chuckled at that, looking a little more at ease. "Well, you can't really say anything when you can't breathe," he pointed out, making Nick wonder what was used in place of a safe word then. "But other times..."

 

Nick smirked. "Greg is into some really kinky shit, huh?"

 

"Well." Warrick shrugged. "They're not hugely into it, but yeah, every once in a while, Greg wants to roleplay." Warrick rolled his eyes.

 

"And you humor him?"

 

That question snapped Warrick right out of his embarassed-amused state and right into defensive mode. "We never humor each other," he said firmly. "I'm not into all the stuff they are, but we mutually respect each other." That was obviously important to Warrick, even though he'd been rolling his eyes at Greg's preferences for sex a few seconds ago. Nick decided not to comment, too confused by the seemingly contrasting opinions Warrick had about what Greg and his partner did in bed. Or, heck, maybe half of it they didn't even do in bed.

 

"Yeah, man, I get that," Nick said quietly. It was one thing to joke about stuff, but when it came down to respect, he could... respect that. Which followed pretty straightforward logic. "Sorry, I just - this is all new to me."

 

Warrick conceded with a nod, dropping his hand to his side while keeping the other where it rested, by now, on the side of Nick's neck. "Still is to me, most of the time." He shrugged. "Can't change it, but don't really want to. He is who he is, right?"

 

"Right," Nick agreed, reaching out to take Warrick's hand. "And that's why you love him. Kinky shit and all."

 

Warrick laughed. "Kinky shit and all," he agreed, grinning at Nick. "Now, whaddaya say we stop talking about them and start having some fun of our own?" he suggested, and Nick returned the grin.

 

"I say that sounds like the best idea you've had all day."

 

***

They kissed all the way to the bedroom. Nick forgot all about Greg and his kinky ideas of fun; this was the kind of fun Nick liked. Kissing, plain and simple, curious and hungry and exciting because there was still part of Nick that believed he shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be liking it. Maybe it was Vegas, maybe it was Warrick, but the part of Nick that really wanted to do this was finally stronger than the part that wanted to hide his desire for this very thing, this kiss with Warrick, with another man.

 

Warrick let him set the pace, walking backward as Nick walked forward, navigating their way to the bedroom Nick hadn't been in before. The whole time he'd stayed here after the incident with Nigel Crane, he'd respected Warrick's privacy, which meant never going into his bedroom because there was no reason for him to. He had everything he needed in the spare room, and he had his own bathroom down the hall, so he hadn't needed to use Warrick's.

 

Maybe if he'd been more honest with himself about what he wanted he would've found out about Warrick's feelings sooner. But there was no point in regretting the past; he had the present, and the present included Warrick's body pressed against his and Warrick's lips crushing his own lips against his teeth, and that was all Nick wanted to focus on.

 

Warrick's arms slipped around Nick's back and pulled, and Nick was so caught up in the kiss that at first he didn't know what Warrick was doing. But he trusted Warrick, and more importantly, he could see the bed behind Warrick, so he fell with him, exhaling heavily as Warrick grunted underneath him.

 

And there it was, pressure, his pelvis pressing forward against Warrick's and even through their jeans, he could feel how hard Warrick was. Nick got caught up in that then, losing control of the kiss as he became intent on grinding his hips into Warrick's.

 

It felt so good. Warrick was moving under him, returning each of Nick's thrusts with one of his own, eliminating any doubt about whether Nick was being too enthusiastic. And he wasn't, he didn't have to stop, didn't have to be a gentleman. It was okay if he gave into his impulses, just pushed down onto Warrick the way he wanted to. It was friction, it was pressure, it was a solid body under his and it was Warrick wanting the same thing he wanted. Warrick kissed like a pro, coordinating the thrusts of his tongue with the thrusts of his hips, dominating the kiss even from underneath. Which was a good thing, because if the coordination had been up to Nick, they probably wouldn't been on the floor by now.

 

Warrick brought his legs up, framing Nick's hips with his knees, and Nick's breath caught in his throat. He could really get with ths, especially if their pants came off, and wait, why were they still wearing clothes? Nick moaned as Warrick rocked up against him, only to realize that Warrick was maneuvering them all the way onto the bed, and yeah, that was better. His body flush against Warrick's from chest to ankle, Warrick's legs wrapped around his thighs, pulling Nick in closer than he'd thought he could get without actually fucking Warrick.

 

He'd have to try that, sometime soon, but not now, because that would mean he'd have to stop kissing Warrick, stop grinding against him, and Nick didn't want to do that. Nick couldn't do that. He had to keep moving, keep thrusting, keep kissing Warrick, tasting him. Then Warrick gripped his ass, and that was it. One last hard thrust against Warrick's groin and Nick came, burying his face against Warrick's neck as he tried to catch his breath.

 

Warrick came silently, but Nick could tell he'd come because of the way his hips jerked, the rest of his body stilling a few seconds later. Then Warrick's body relaxed under his, and Nick took a deep breath, his body shuddering with the exhale as an aftershock hit him.

 

That was... intense. Nick considered telling Warrick that, but he didn't want to break the silence. Perfect silence. So he nuzzled Warrick's neck instead, smiling to himself when Warrick ran a hand lightly up his back, then back down again. Nick pressed a kiss to Warrick's neck, then half slipped off him, so Warrick would have some room to breathe. Warrick didn't let him move any further, though, looping an arm firmly around Nick's waist to keep him close. Nick didn't mind. Reciprocating with his own arm around Warrick's chest, Nick let himself drift off, content to fall asleep where he was lying as long as he was with Warrick.

 

***


	7. Chapter 7  Missing

  
Author's notes: When a little girl is missing, Nick has to put aside his uncertainties - and his coworkers' belief that she's already dead - to find her.  


* * *

Nick drifted away sometime in the mid-afternoon, the discomfort in his pants too much to let him stay asleep. Warrick didn't seem to be bothered by it, or even notice that Nick was awake. So Nick slipped out of bed undetected, and headed for the spare bedroom in the hopes that some of his clothes were still here.

 

Strange how he hadn't noticed the significance of that before. Warrick was under no obligation to let him stay after he'd been stalked, even as a friend, but Warrick had opened his home to Nick. Nick had stayed for a few months, going back to his place ocassionally to pick up clothes he needed, glasses, books, supplies for his kit. He'd have stayed longer if he hadn't felt like he was overstaying his welcome.

 

It was very convenient now, though. He didn't have to go to his car for a change of clothes or borrow anything from Warrick. He could wear his own clothes, musty as they might be. Deciding on a different course of action, Nick returned to Warrick's bedroom to borrow a pair of his friend's boxers. Just until he washed his clothes; Warrick wouldn't mind.

 

"Rick," Nick whispered, shaking Warrick's shoulder lightly. "Hey, get up for a minute." Warrick made a face as he started to wake up; clearly not an afternoon person. Nick grinned. "I just need your pants."

 

Warrick half-smirked at him through heavily-lidded eyes, amused. "Is that a proposition, Stokes?"

 

"You wish," Nick said with a snort. "Just gimme your pants so I can wash them."

 

A wicked grin split Warrick's face. "That's so sweet of you, Pumpkin," he joked, cuffing Nick on the arm when he didn't play along. Nick laughed, then wrestled Warrick out of his pants and boxers, tempted to do more than just wash clothes when he found himself face-to-face with Warrick's cock. But it was the middle of the afternoon, and they both had work that night, and they needed to get back to sleep.

 

With some difficulty, Nick talked himself into getting out of the bed, watching wistfully as Warrick watched him back away. "I'm gonna sleep in the spare room," he decided, "otherwise I might molest you in your sleep." He wouldn't, not really; any molesting would be done while they were both awake. And staying awake any longer would not bode well for work.

 

Nick paused in the doorway, waiting for Warrick's sarcastic reply, but none was forthcoming. When he looked back over his shoulder, he could see that Warrick was already back asleep, and that changed things. Just a little.

 

***

 

The alarm clock was beeping shrilly in his ear; not his alarm clock, not his own, because his wasn't this annoying, and it didn't go off this early. Nick squinted at the digital display, and scowled, trying to remember how to turn it off. "I can't believe you still get up at nine," he groaned.

 

"I can't believe you still sleep in till eleven," Warrick retorted, his frown coming into view once Nick managed to stop the alarm and looked at Warrick again. Warrick was squinting up at him; Nick guessed his contacts must be cloudy, since he hadn't had a chance to take them out that morning. "I thought you were sleeping in the spare room."

 

"Changed my mind," Nick murmured with a smile, leaning down to press a kiss to Warrick's mouth. Warrick returned the kiss, though he didn't close his eyes. "Had someplace better to be." They shared a smile. Then Nick frowned, remembering the clothes. "Shit, I need to put the clothes in the dryer."

 

A hand on his arm stopped him from getting up. "I'll take care of it," Warrick offered. "Let you sleep in a little more. I can wake you up after my shower."

 

"Or," Nick suggested with a grin, "I can take a shower with you and we can conserve water."

 

The grin on Warrick's face made Nick think Warrick had been wanting to suggest the same thing. Maybe he hadn't made the offer so Nick could decide on his own comfort level. "That works too," he agreed, dropping a kiss on Nick's lips before he backed out of the bed. Warrick paused in the doorway. "Greg doesn't know you spent the day." It was more of a question than a statement, and Nick knew what Warrick was asking.

 

And why shouldn't he? Just because Greg knew about Warrick's feelings for Nick, that didn't mean he knew Nick returned the interest, if not the feelings yet. Nick was sure that in time, he'd fall in love with Warrick, if Warrick let him, and that was the only reason Nick felt right about spending the day and kissing him and more. It wouldn't be right to lead Warrick on, and Nick didn't believe he was doing that. "You should tell him," Nick suggested.

 

He didn't have any experience with multi-partner relationships, but he was pretty sure this wasn't the kind of news you should give over the phone. Warrick would be a better judge of that, though, since he was the one in the middle. And Nick wasn't about to do anything to make this awkward for Warrick. That wouldn't be fair.

 

"Yeah," Warrick agreed, smiling slightly. He'd probably only said something to make sure Nick was aware of what was going to happen; Warrick must have been planning to tell them all along, but he'd wanted Nick to know, and Nick understood. He'd even give Warrick his blessing.

 

"You know what?" Nick wasn't one to go behind anyone's back, but the three of them would want to discuss it amongst themselves, have time to take in the information and react honestly without having to censor their reactions for Nick's benefit. "Why don't you go to their place and tell them about it now. They should hear it in person."

 

Warrick frowned. "Are you sure?"

 

Nick got the feeling Warrick hadn't expected him to be so understanding. "Yeah," he assured Warrick with a nod. "Look, they're not gonna want me to be there when they find out. Give them some time to get used to the idea before they talk to me about it."

 

Because Nick knew now that getting involved with Warrick meant getting involved with Warrick's partners, too. It didn't have to mean he was going to be involved with them sexually, but just as Warrick had made him aware of his other partners before letting Nick make his own decision about getting involved with Warrick, Warrick's partners deserved to know that Warrick was involved with Nick now, too. Eventually, they'd want to talk to Nick; at least, Greg would, and Nick still needed to talk to Greg about what had happened the week before.

 

"Okay," Warrick said, still looking doubtful. Pushing the covers aside, Nick got out of bed, and joined Warrick by the doorway.

 

"It'll be fine," he promised. "They already know how you feel about me, and I'm still invited back here tomorrow, right?" he asked boldly.

 

Warrick chuckled. "Yeah, of course. You're invited here anytime you want."

 

"Good. Then go talk to them, take your shower over there. I'll take care of the clothes, you take care of your boyfriends."

 

"Nick..."

 

"Go," Nick said, putting a hand flat against Warrick's chest. "You owe it to them." He did. Because Warrick had been with them for years, and they'd been there for Warrick for years. Nick had only spent one day with Warrick; at least, only one day in the context of their new relationship, whatever it was.

 

"You can come, you know."

 

Nick shook his head. "I will. Someday. But right now they need to hear the news without me there." Nick knew it wouldn't be easy for them. If they loved Warrick as much as Warrick loved them, they might start to worry that Warrick would leave them for Nick. Nick didn't want that, and he knew Warrick's partners couldn't want that, either. Warrick going to talk to them without Nick in tow would give them at least some reassurances. "Now go."

 

Warrick looked a little baffled, and Nick didn't blame him. Nick didn't often take charge; the only reason he was doing it now was because he could see that Warrick wanted so much to please everyone that he couldn't see that it would end up making it awkward for all of them instead. When Warrick got to Greg's, or the place Greg stayed with his partner, he'd realize that Nick was right. And Nick would make sure Warrick did the right thing, even if it meant leaving Nick alone for a few hours.

 

"All right," Warrick said skeptically, pressing a goodnight kiss to Nick's lips. Nick smiled. Yeah, he could get used to that. "I'll see you at work."

 

"Yeah, you will." Nick grinned, pushing lightly at Warrick's chest. "See you there."

 

***

 

The cases kept them moderately busy over the next few weeks, but after a while, it became pretty clear that it wasn't just the cases keeping Nick from seeing Greg. Greg was avoiding him; he had to be. It couldn't be just a coincidence that Greg always finished his lunch break just when Nick stepped into the break room to start his.

 

It made him feel bad, but he wasn't really sure there was anything he could do. He and Sara had been working the same case for two weeks, with just enough leads that Gil wasn't pressuring them to send it cold, but not enough progress that they hadn't both been assigned to other cases that had been put on priority. Nick's other case was with Catherine, which was nice; Catherine knew how to be blunt, and she wasn't afraid to say things that might remind Nick of his time underground.

 

The simplest things could remind him, so it was pretty much inevitable; but Catherine just rolled with it, while Sara always got awkward or felt the need to apologize. And Warrick, well, half the time, Warrick had that look of concern on his face. If they weren't careful, their coworkers were going to figure out that something was going on between the two of them, because Nick was having a hard time not turning into the comfort he knew Warrick could offer.

 

On the plus side, things were going well between Warrick and Nick at 'home', despite Nick's concern about how Greg was reacting to their relationship. Nick had no way of really knowing how Greg felt, since he didn't even get to see Greg in the lab for evidence anymore. Greg was off working his own cases, having successfully become a CSI when Nick hadn't been paying attention, and since they weren't assigned to any cases together, it wasn't like Nick could pull him aside to talk.

 

Nick had made sure Warrick didn't neglect Greg and their other partner, encouraging Warrick to spend at least every other morning with them. Sometimes Nick made excuses, saying he wanted to check his mail or do some cleaning in the living room of his own house, and other times, he came right out and told Warrick that Nick wouldn't come between Warrick and his other partners. I'm not going anywhere, he told Warrick, every time Warrick got that look like if he went to see Greg and his other partner, he'd be abandoning Nick. I'll come over after work tomorrow. It'll be fine.

 

The days Nick actually got to spend with Warrick were some of the best. They hadn't done more than what they'd done that first day, unless mutual hand jobs counted as 'more', which they probably did. Nick loved the warm, strong grip of Warrick's hand around his cock, doing what no woman had ever done for Nick, and probably a lot more comfortable with Nick's 'piece' than any woman could be. In turn, Nick got to find out what it felt like to wrap his hand around a cock that wasn't attached to his own body, got to feel the difference in size, texture, and angle, got to watch himself make Warrick come, leaving no doubt as to the success of Nick's endeavors.

 

Two hands - and two cocks - were definitely better than one when it came to jerking off, especially when they rubbed up against each other naked and kissed, too. It was better than anything Nick had ever imagined, but then, nothing was ever quite the same in reality as it was in dreams. That could be a good thing or a bad thing, depending. When it came to sex, so far, it had been a very good thing. When it came to being kidnapped and put through his worst nightmares, well, it was much worse. The only good thing about it was that the worst had happened... which could only mean that the best was yet to come.

 

***

 

When a quadruple homicide took place in Lincoln County, where they "hadn't had a single murder in ten years", half the graveyard shift was put on the case. And it was going to be quite the case, because there weren't any bodies - just pints and pints of congealed blood on the floors.

 

It was the kind of home some of Nick's sisters lived in, the kind his parents had always hoped Nick would have one day. Typical nuclear family; mother, father, and two kids, upstanding citizens who were well-liked and well-respected in the community. All they were missing was the white picket fence, but for all the apparent perfection of the family, the amount of blood indicated that there had been damn near a massacre in that quaint little house.

 

He couldn't have talked to Greg if he wanted to. He still wanted to - more needed to than wanted to, but as the days rolled on, Nick looked less and less forward to explaining what had taken so long, even though Greg was the one who'd been avoiding him. He couldn't think about that now, though, because even with four crims on the property, they had a heck of a lot of crime scene to process and not a lot of time.

 

The kidnapping cases were always the most urgent, especially when the persons missing were integral to the community. Nick hated that 'especially' distinction, even though he'd fit the bill when he'd been kidnapped. If he'd been homeless or a waiter instead of a CSI, they never would've found him in time... if they found him at all. And if he didn't work for the second best crime lab in the country, Hodges probably wouldn't have been able to figure out that there were explosives on the bottom of his coffin, and Nick would've blown them all up by getting out instead of waiting for them to balance the weight.

 

He couldn't think about that now. He had to focus on the case, on the only evidence they had that could lead them to the McBrides. Time was limited; the first forty-eight hours were vital, but given the blood loss, Nick doubted the McBrides were even still alive.

 

***

 

Nick had a feeling that Cassie, the ten-year-old, was still alive. They'd only found three major blood events downstairs; those could belong to the parents and the high-school boy. There was no blood in the little girl's room, just evidence of attempted drugging; drugging because Nick found a bottle of cough syrup under the bed, attempted because he found half the contents of the bottle in a size-one shoe, also under the bed.

 

Cassie could've been one of Nick's sisters. Her room was full of children's mystery books and pictures of Cassie having fun, at the pool with her swim team and at the theater in costume. It was eerie how familiar the room felt, as if Nick was just a kid again, walking into his big sister's room. Nick could swear he heard a little girl laugh, and there it was again - and again.

 

Was he hallucinating?

 

Stranger things had happened, but Nick followed the sound. Part of him hoped he'd find Cassie in the next room, hiding - but why laughing? Was that actually a cry? Was he just imagining things? Nick frowned as he entered the room that seemed to be the source of the sound - there was no one there except for Warrick, standing over a keyboard, repeatedly pressing the same key. Each time he pressed it, the laugh sounded again.

 

Nick's shoulders sagged in relief. He wasn't crazy. It was just a recording. "What's that?"

 

"If it's labeled correctly, it's Cassie's laugh."

 

Cassie. The little girl they were looking for. Her parents and her brother had been attacked and then kidnapped, and she had to have been kidnapped along with them. There was no sign that she'd been injured, no blood, no sign of a struggle except for the shoe and the cough syrup...

 

She had to still be alive.

 

***

 

They were looking over new evidence - essays on a variety of topics all written by Jeremy, the high school student - when Nick's phone chirped. "What's up?"

 

"We're in the basement," he heard Sara say, her voice a little staticky on the other end. "Greg found motive."

 

Motive in the basement? That was promising. "Hey, Rick," he began, but Warrick had overheard.

 

"Yeah, on my way."

 

***

 

The motive was pot. Miles and miles of pot and Greg looked like he'd found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Or, well, just the pot at the end of the rainbow, which was kind of a disturbing image, though Greg looked like he'd appreciate it.

 

If Sara hadn't been there, Nick could've taken the opportunity to talk to Greg. That was, if Greg wasn't enamored of the... motive. He couldn't talk to Warrick alone, either, since Warrick was busy processing. Feeling awkward, Nick excused himself from the basement, telling Sara he was going to see if the cops needed any help outside.

 

In reality, Nick just needed to be alone. Just for a few minutes. Away from apologetic Sara, away from ecstatic but unapproachable Greg, and away from Warrick who he couldn't talk to like normal because they were at a scene with Sara and Greg. Just a few minutes to get some fresh air, a sip of some fresh water, and... question the strange woman walking up the driveway. "Hi," he said, prepared to stop her from going into the house if it came to that. "Can I help you?"

 

"I'm Sage. I'm looking for Nina."

 

Nina... that was the wife. "Yeah, so am I." He managed to get some information out of Sage - she worked with Nina at the flower shop, and hadn't seen her since Friday when Nina had left work early to go to a Jimmy Buffet concert. Sage described a picture-perfect marriage between the McBrides, and Nick wondered if she knew about the marijuana. When she leaned forward and touched his forehead, commenting that his third eye was wide open and asking whether he was seeing or hearing things, Nick wondered if she was on it at the moment. "No..."

 

Sage smiled softly, then crouched down in front of Nick, surprising him. He didn't know what she wanted from him, but for some reason, he wasn't threatened by her. A little weirded out, but not threated. "I'm really sorry," she said apologetically, her smile reaching her eyes. Nick smiled back. "But you're radiating this crazy feminine energy."

 

Nick raised his eyebrows, not sure which bothered him the most; the crazy part or the feminine part. Sage seemed to mean well, though, so he tried not to act insulted. "Really."

 

"Mmhmm," she said happily. "Do you believe in past lives?"

 

Yeah, she was a little out there, but Nick liked her. "No, ma'am," he said politely.

 

"Why not?"

 

Why not? Because a person only lived once, that was why not. But try telling that to a woman like Sage. "Because I'm just tryin' to make it through this one," he finally said. Nick didn't believe in past lives, but whether they existed or not, the life he was in right now was the only one that mattered. All that mattered was that he was alive, and that he'd finally found the courage to take what he wanted, and right now, that was Warrick.

 

Sage studied him for a long time before she spoke again. "Well, I think you're doin' pretty well."

 

It was bizarre. Nick didn't believe in the paranormal, didn't believe in psychics or past lives, but there had been a moment in the house when he'd sworn he was hearing Cassie's voice. Sure, it had just been the recording on the keyboard, but for a moment, he'd been convinced that he was hearing a real person. That Cassie had been speaking to him from beyond the grave or something, because as much as Nick wanted to believe she was alive, he knew the chances were slim to none.

 

Nick didn't delude himself into thinking that Sage might actually know what she was talking about, but it was nice to hear someone tell him he was doing okay. It finally felt like things were going his way, and Sage's soothing presence just reaffirmed that. "Sage," he called, and waited for her to turn around. "Thanks."

 

***

 

They had a suspect who wasn't talking. A suspect with a trash bag full of pot in the trunk of his car, a car that Warrick and Greg were processing together. Nick should've been the one processing with Greg, so they could've had a chance to talk. Or with Warrick, so he could've had a quiet moment with his friend instead of working out the blood pools with Catherine. Between the case and Greg's silent animosity, Nick was starting to feel lost and alone, frustrated by the case and hungry for the comfort he couldn't take from Warrick while on the job. He wanted to know that Greg was distant because of whatever had made him distant earlier in the summer, and not because of Nick's new relationship with Warrick; and in the middle of all that he was desperate to know that his gut feeling, not the evidence, was correct, and that somewhere, somehow, Cassie was still alive.

 

At least the DNA results on the blood pools were back. Nick closed the phone on Catherine's voice and returned to the picnic table where the group was eating, taking the only seat left - the seat next to Greg. Greg didn't look at him. "DNA confirmed on everyone but Cassie," he announced, the results only confirming his feeling that Cassie was still alive. Feeling, hope... they were pretty much the same thing at this point.

 

"Mark knew the pot was there because of Jeremy," Warrick said. Mark was their suspect, the one who had a trunkful of pot. "Now, I'm sure Jeremy's not the most popular kid in school. He's done everyone's term paper. He's a nerd."

 

Greg nodded. "Yeah, so how does that end up in a quadruple homicide?" Triple, Nick had to bite back. Triple. Cassie wasn't dead. She couldn't be.

 

"One of them was stupid enough to bring a gun," Sara muttered. Made sense, Nick guessed. Jeremy tells the popular kid about the pot to try to be popular, and when Mark didn't get what he wanted, he filled Jeremy's family with bullets. It was extreme, but they wouldn't have crime scenes to process if people didn't get extreme on a regular basis.

 

"I was talking to Tina the other night," Warrick interjected. Greg cleared his throat.

 

"Yoko Ono," Greg coughed unsubtly, and at that point, Nick lost focus on the conversation. Did Greg really think of Tina that way? That she was someone who still came between Warrick and Greg and their other partner enough that Greg would mention it, even though Warrick was clearly over it enough to bring her up while discussing a case? When the sheriff joined them with a security video from the ATM, Nick was all ready to offer to take care of it, but Warrick beat him to it. Greg must have made him uncomfortable.

 

"Call me if you need me," Warrick said to the group, but the way he was looking at Nick, Nick wondered if it was meant for him. Nick agreed with a silent nod, then went back to staring at the food in front of him. Hopefully Warrick would find a new lead on the tape with Archie's help, and maybe Nick would finally be able to get talking to Greg over with. If Greg was willing to talk to him. What if Greg thought Nick would break them up like Tina had? What if Greg really didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore? Not that Nick wouldn't deserve it, but he wanted to make things right. He just wished he knew how.

 

Greg was on his way to process a new scene. It would be the perfect opportunity to talk, but when he realized Sara was going too, he declined. "You go ahead, I'll catch up." He didn't know how to talk to Greg anymore. He didn't know how to hide how awkward he felt.

 

"You think she's still alive," Sara surmised. Nick looked up; he didn't know why she'd come to that conclusion, but it was as good an excuse as anything.

 

"You don't?" Sara shook her head. Nick politely disagreed. "None of her blood was found at the house."

 

"I think she was drugged," Sara said seriously, that hard look in her eyes. She was trying the tough love bit, trying to make Nick see that he was wrong. "And... she was lucky if all they did after that was kill her."

 

God dammit. Did Sara really have to put that image in his head? Nick fucking knew that, knew that even if she'd managed to escape being drugged, Cassie wouldn't have been strong enough to fight off adult kidnappers. And a ten-year-old girl was no more able to stop the advances of a kidnapper than a nine-year-old boy was able to stop his babysitter from touching him and doing things to him no nine-year-old should have done to him.

 

But Sara didn't know about that, and Nick wasn't about to tell her. "I don't think she was drugged," he said determinedly. "She's a smart little girl. She hid that medicine in her shoe," he pointed out, and Sara looked at him sadly.

 

"I hope you're right." The way she said it made it clear that as much as she wanted to believe it was possible, she didn't. In her mind, she'd already buried Cassie along with her family. "But everything in our experience tells us they're dead, all four of them."

 

He knew what Sara was doing. She wasn't trying to hurt him; she was just trying to get through to him so that when they found the body - the body Sara was convinced was out there - Nick wouldn't be disappointed. But he wouldn't prepare himself for that eventuality. "Doesn't mean we just give up."

 

"No one's giving up. It's just that... you're acting like we're going to rescue a person, not recover a body." Nick tried not to flinch. "And on this job, that just usually isn't the case."

 

Nick knew that. It didn't stop him from wanting this case to be different. "I was rescued," he said quietly. Because of who he was, an employee of the Las Vegas Police Department. That was also why he'd been there in the first place, though; just like Cassie was in trouble because her parents were stupid enough to be in the drug business even though they had kids in the house.

 

"It was not your day to die," Sara said firmly. A little like Sage in her determination, though not quite as encouraging. "When it's your day... it's your day."

 

Nick tipped his chin up, not willing to concede to the possibility of Cassie being dead. "I don't think it was Cassie's day."

 

***

 

They were already pulling a double, but Nick wasn't tired. He would work a quadruple if that was what it took to find Cassie. With every moment that passed, her chances were dwindling, and there was no new evidence. Just crime scene photos to look over, and no new leads.

 

He could think, though. Gil stopped in the middle of an investigation sometimes to do just that. Sometimes you got so caught up in the race of solving a case that you forgot to look at the big picture, and right now, Nick needed to look at the big picture. He had a picture of Cassie in front of him, a smiling, happy, innocent little girl who'd been ripped from her home.

 

In the park, children were playing, young boys and girls Cassie's age playing ball around a dog that barked and leaped between them. Nick couldn't remember the carefree days of childhood; they'd ended so quickly for him. He'd always consoled himself with the thought that someday, he'd find himself a pretty wife and a pretty house and have beautiful kids, kids he could give the childhood he hadn't had for himself. Kids like these, who didn't have a care in the world beyond the next moment.

 

As he'd gotten older, Nick had come to realize that if he lived that life, he'd be living a lie, if he had a wife instead of a husband. But that didn't happen; men didn't marry men, and they didn't let two men to raise children together. Nick's parents would never have accepted a life like that, anyway, even if the law had been okay with it. So Nick had given up those dreams, only to be reminded of them with every case that came along like this.

 

Maybe Sara was right. Maybe Cassie was dead, and maybe... maybe she was better off that way. Given the amount of blood loss, her parents and brother were probably dead, and if they hadn't killed her yet... Nick didn't want to think about the things they'd probably done to her.

 

Would he have wanted to live if his family had been slaughtered? Nick didn't know. But he was grateful for life, grateful to still be alive, even though he'd been through more trauma in the past few years than most people experienced in a lifetime.

 

Besides, Cassie was a smart little girl. She'd hidden the cough syrup, maybe she'd done something else. As Nick stared at the picture of her, something clicked into place. Cassie was always blowing bubbles - pink gum. Gum like Greg had found more than once.

 

Cassie was leaving them a trail.

 

***

 

Sara didn't put any stock in his theory, but that didn't matter because they had a suspect. A suspect who wasn't talking, and this time, Nick wasn't going to take any more bullshit.

 

"How'd you hurt your hand, huh?" he demanded, grabbing the suspect by the wrist. It was a fresh wound, and Nick bet if they had Cassie with them, they'd find Locke's epithelials under her fingernails. "What's the matter, she fight back?" Good for her. Good for Cassie. Locke still didn't talk, so Nick grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head back at a painful angle. Make this guy hurt like he'd hurt the McBrides, like he'd hurt Cassie. "You tried to drug her, but guess what? She was too smart for you." Of course she was. Cassie was a smart, smart little girl, knew this guy was her enemy even though she'd been smiling at him in the picture. "You coached the little girls' swim team, 'cause you like to watch them in their bathing suits, is that it? Huh?"

 

Guys like this made Nick sick. Reminded him why he was a CSI instead of a cop, so he could follow the evidence to the perpetrators who tried to hurt little kids.

 

Hear that, Gordon? he thought, taking out all his rage on the suspect in the chair. Not in the chair anymore, not when Nick grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him up against the wall, wondering what it would feel like to have bones cracking under his hands. I'm still following the evidence, even after what you did to me. You can't stop me, Gordon. Some things are more important than fear.

 

"Where is she?" Locke wasn't answering, and he should be answering, because Nick was still letting him breathe. If he wanted to he could push Locke harder, he could lift his hand and cut off the flow of air. "Where is she?" Maybe get Greg in there to help him; Greg knew all about breath control play, only this wasn't a game. A little girl's life was at stake, and if Locke didn't answer him soon, Nick was going to end up destroying their best connection to Cassie. "Where the hell is she?"

 

***

 

Nick was going to cry. This poor, brave little girl had been through hell, and she'd made him a card. She'd made them a card, a card for the whole team working together, and Nick was going to cry. She couldn't even speak, and she'd made a card, thanking the 'good guys' for finding her and arresting the 'bad guys'.

 

Nick was one of the good guys.

 

That was all he'd ever wanted to be. Especially for her. "You're welcome, sweetie," he whispered, reaching out to touch her hair. Someone had brushed it for her, and if it weren't for the slit in her throat, she could've looked like she was there for a regular checkup instead of recovering from an attempt on her life.

 

They'd found her on the shore of the lake where her parents and brother had been anchored below the surface. Nick had taken the pictures, believed in his heart that she was dead, and then she'd gasped out a breath, looking up at him with wild eyes, the whites showing under her lids. Careful not to put her at risk, Nick had cautiously picked her up, and they'd gotten her to the hospital as quickly and safely as possible. And now she was here, unable to speak, communicating with a pad of paper.

 

WHERE IS MY FAMILY?

 

Nick got choked up at the crayoned words, and he gave her a watery smile, still smoothing back her hair. "They're in Vegas," he said honestly. It was too hard to tell her the whole truth, but then she shoved a scribbled demand at him.

 

I'M TEN YEARS OLD. DON'T BABY ME!!!

 

She didn't want to be babied. Brave, strong little girl. Who already knew the truth, but it killed Nick to say it to her. "Their bodies are in the coroner's office, honey," he whispered, the thought that Cassie was smart enough to know what a coroner's office was distracting him only momentarily from the moisture welling up in his eyes.

 

Nick hated this part. Hated breaking the news to the victims, witnesses, friends and families of the victims; in Cassie's case, she was all of the above. Nick took a deep breath. "Hey, Cassie," he said gently, trying to get a hold on his emotions. Breaking the news was bad, but interviewing her as a witness would be worse. Nick didn't want to do it, but he'd rather it be him than someone who didn't care as much as he did. "I know when bad things happen, it's hard to remember. But if I give you some details, do you think you could tell me the story of what happened to your family?"

 

It would be hard for her. It would hurt to go through the trauma again, remember seeing her family shot, dragged away, dumped, but Nick knew from experience that she wasn't going to forget. It would be better for her to get this part, the sharing, out of the way. The only saving grace was that Cassie was so young. In time, the memories would get a little blurry, a little less persistent. They'd never go away completely, but Cassie, she was strong, and she would survive, just like Nick had survived. She'd had the presence of mind to leave a trail of gumdrops, and while she hadn't been left unscarred, she'd set the stage for her own rescue, just like Nick had been able to use the gum to lessen the damage to his ears from the gunshot. She'd participated in her own rescue just like Nick had participated in his own healing, and they'd been able to find her. They'd been able to rescue her.

 

Just like they'd rescued him.

 

Cassie started to whisper. "They came... to my house..."


	8. Chapter 8 Where There's Smoke

  
Author's notes: In the aftermath of Cassie's case, Nick has to decide what's really important to him.  


* * *

Nick was exhausted. It had been a long time since he'd felt this bone-tired, a combination of physical and emotional exhaustion that made him want nothing more than to curl up and go to bed. But there was paperwork to fill out, and a supervisor to brief, and he should probably wake Warrick up, too.

 

Warrick was passed out in one of the chairs in the lobby, his body bent into what looked like a very uncomfortable position. The hospital's chairs were decent to sit in for a few hours, but they were hardly ideal for sleeping. Although...

 

Hell, he was exhausted. He'd already established that, and it might be a chair, but it was a chair next to Warrick and just a few feet away from him which meant he didn't have to travel far to get to it. Nick dropped down two chairs away from Warrick - just so he wouldn't end up hugging Warrick in his sleep or something - and slumped down until he was semi-comfortable, then closed his eyes.

 

***

 

Warrick ended up waking him up, even though it should've been the other way around. Smiling sleepily, Nick slitted his eyes open and peered up at Warrick through his lashes, taking comfort in the light pressure of Warrick's hand on his shoulder. When they got home, he'd curl up in bed with Warrick, but for now, this was more than enough.

 

"Hey," he murmured, his voice thick with phlegm. Nick cleared his throat and then nuzzled down in the chair, tempted to sleep some more, but Warrick shook his shoulder gently, reminding him that he had to get up.

 

"Wanna split a cab?"

 

Nick nodded. Splitting a cab with Warrick would be good. Nick wasn't sure if Warrick was going back to the station like Nick - who was probably the only one of them still on the clock - but at least they could sit together for a few blocks.

 

Reaching up, he grasped Warrick's forearm, enjoying the easy strain in his muscles when Warrick gripped his arm just under the elbow and helped him up. It would be so easy to follow that through with a hug, just lean into Warrick, but they were in a public place and it wouldn't exactly be appropriate.

 

"You still on?" he asked once they got in the cab. His eyes were closed and he was leaning back against the headrest that was all the wrong height and angle, so loose from being tired that his head lolled one direction or another each time they rounded a corner or got jostled over a pothole.

 

"Nah," Warrick replied, stretching out the word like it sounded like he was stretching out his arms. His body was probably stiff, and when they got home, Nick thought he might try giving Warrick a massage. Warrick needed it and deserved it. So did Nick, and if he was lucky, Warrick wouldn't fall asleep once Nick kneaded away the tension. "Gonna be on again."

 

Nick opened his eyes again, letting his head loll to the left so he could look at Warrick. "No way, man. Griss ain't givin' you the night off?"

 

"Skeleton crew," Warrick said by way of explanation, grimacing as he cracked his knuckles. "I could have it off if I wanted but no point takin' it off when I don't have to. 'sides, I got some sleep, I'm good."

 

"You slept in a chair," Nick reminded him. Warrick was probably right, was definitely trying to do the right thing, but dammit, he wanted to go home with Warrick.

 

Warrick sighed. "You got less sleep than me, Nick. If I take tonight off and so do you, graveyard's down to bare bones." Warrick paused. "No pun intended."

 

Nick snorted, then sighed. "Guess you're right," he conceded. No, there wasn't really any way they could both take the night off. It had been premature of him to think that was possible. And while the gentlemanly side of Nick wanted to argue, say he'd work instead of letting Warrick let him have the night off, the dead-tired part of Nick knew he wouldn't be any good clocking back in tonight. Wow, it had really been twenty-four hours. More than that, because it was after shift started.

 

Nick just hoped Warrick didn't get in trouble for being late on account of waiting for him to get done with interviewing Cassie.

 

***

 

Technically, Nick could've gone to brief Gil first and asked if he could type up the interview later, but he knew it would be easier for everyone involved if he just got it out of the way. It would certainly be easier for Nick to have that weight off his shoulders before he took his night off - that was, considering he did have a night off, because he had no confirmation from Gil yet, just a strong assumption.

 

It was a relief to be able to log and file away all the evidence, no lingering responsibilities except for his meeting with Gil. It was standard at the end of any case, and just because he'd been working almost twenty-four hours straight - longer if he included the time he spent sleeping in the hospital lobby - didn't mean he could put it off until the next shift. Nick was just glad he had enough money for a cab ride home, because he was in no shape to drive.

 

He splashed his face with water in the locker room before going to see Gil, destroying all the evidence of the tears that had fallen during his interview with Cassie. It had been all right to cry in front of Cassie, and he hadn't even minded letting Warrick see the salty tracks running down his cheeks, but he was back at work now and he had to be professional. The splash of cold water woke him up a little, too, making him temporarily more alert.

 

Gil sat silently as Nick reviewed the case with him, from the blood pools he'd marked when he'd first arrived at the scene to the very last minutes of his interview with Cassie. He spoke for probably a half hour, but they weren't interrupted, most everyone probably busy with cases, and Gil listened attentively. When Nick was finished, he paused to try to think of the best way to ask if he had the night off or not, but Gil spoke before he could continue.

 

"Nick," Gil enunciated, his expression more intent than Nick liked, "why don't you tell me about what happened in the interrogation room." Nick had been in a few interrogation rooms that day, and Gil must have realized that, because he continued, "With Mr. Locke."

 

Nick swallowed. Right. Gil's request was as good as an accusation, and part of Nick knew he deserved it. Another part of Nick was defensive, which could only cause trouble if he gave into it. "I guess I sorta lost it." That sounded familiar, especially in his own voice. "I mean, he knew where Cassie was, and he wasn't talkin'. I didn't have a choice, Griss. You saw the photos, if I hadn't found her when I did she'd be... dead."

 

Gil studied him for a long time. Nick found himself getting more defensive, needing Gil to understand why he'd done what he'd done, because he couldn't just sit there while Cassie had been dying somewhere. Nick clenched his jaw, tilting his chin in such a way as to dare Gil to tell him he'd been wrong, to tell him he should've cared more about his job than Cassie's life. This was Nick's way of standing up for himself in front of Gil, even though he knew he deserved whatever he got. But it didn't matter, because his actions had saved Cassie's life, other consequences be damned.

 

"You always have a choice," Gil finally said, and Nick felt his own expression harden. "Apparently anger management hasn't been helping, so-"

 

"This wasn't about anger management!" he exclaimed, pushing out of his chair to stand in front of Gil's desk. "This was about saving a little girl's life," Nick emphasized, punctuating his sentence with a jab to the edge of Gil's desk. Gil was unmoved, though, didn't look intimidated, didn't even blink... but Nick did, when he realized he was trying to intimidate his boss. Shit. That was probably not the right move.

 

When Gil spoke this time, his voice was less understanding, his words less forgiving. "Listen, Nick, if you wanna be a rogue cop, do so on your own time. CSI doesn't tolerate this sort of behavior."

 

Even if it saved someone's life? "What, so I'm fired?" he asked sarcastically, which was also not the best move, but he'd thought he'd been fired before and he hadn't taken it too badly. Sure, he'd barely gotten out of bed for a week except to piss and eat, but that was because he'd still been depressed about his kidnapping. He was over that now, or, well, he mostly was, anyway. Maybe that was why he'd lost it with Greg, but he'd only attacked Locke because Locke knew where Cassie was. It was an interrogation technique - only he hadn't employed it that way. With Locke, Nick had done nothing more valiant than to lose his temper. And that made him wonder what right he had to be talking to Gil the way he was, but he couldn't seem to stop the words before they came out of his mouth.

 

The look Gil was giving him suggested that if Nick didn't learn to control himself, he would be fired, even if that hadn't been Gil's original intention. So Nick very carefully kept his mouth shut, even as he tried not to seethe. "Two weeks unpaid leave," Gil said simply, pushing a form across the desk. "Sign this."

 

Unpaid leave? He'd never been forced to take unpaid leave. Swallowing, Nick reached for the chair behind him to pull it closer to the desk, his hand shaking as he took the pen. He couldn't very well try to argue his way out of it, or else he'd be fired. But shit, man, two weeks not getting paid? That was a whole damn paycheck. And he'd probably end up getting taxed on it, too.

 

Maybe if he hadn't argued, Gil would've let him get away with paid leave. At least, that was what Nick told himself, even though it wasn't very likely. Nick knew Gil hated it, but Gil still had to play politics, just like all the other bosses, and Nick had already done enough to reflect badly on Gil and the rest of the team. He was already cringing at his behavior from just a few minutes ago.

 

He hadn't meant to disappoint Gil again, and though he didn't say it out loud, Nick found himself murmuring the words under his breath. Gil had always expected the best from him, and until lately, Nick had always given his best. What was happening to him? Why couldn't he control his anger anymore?

 

"You didn't," Gil said out of nowhere, sounding confused.

 

Nick looked up, even more confused than Gil. "I didn't what?" he asked, not sure what Gil was talking about. He'd finished signing the forms, and as he passed them back across the desk, Gil tilted his head, his eyes round and curious like an owl's.

 

"Didn't disappoint me," Gil replied, his voice trailing off the instant he got halfway into his sentence. Nick was sure surprise had registered on his own face, because he hadn't even said the words out loud. There was no way Gil could have heard him.

 

But if Gil knew what he'd said, then maybe he didn't need to. Nick wasn't sure what to say here, wasn't sure how to react to the fact that Gil could either read lips or read minds, and since the former was infinitely more likely than the latter, Nick chose to believe that one.

 

So Gil had read his lips, and he didn't know that Nick hadn't said anything out loud. If he'd known, then Gil wouldn't have said anything; Gil had just assumed that Nick was speaking out loud, and even though it was clear that Gil realized his mistake now, Nick wasn't going to embarass him anymore by commenting on it. "Yeah, well," Nick said, not believing that his behavior hadn't disappointed Gil, "I'm sorry anyway."

 

And he was sorry. Sorry that he'd lost his temper, even if it had only been with a suspect, and even if it had saved Cassie's life. If his temper had gotten any worse, he might have seriously injured Locke, and while Nick didn't care what happened to him, he did know that without Locke, they wouldn't have found Cassie. It was never a good idea to assault a suspect, especially out of anger, and Nick knew there was still the possibility of it coming back to bite him on the ass in court. He'd make the whole department look bad if it went that far.

 

On a personal level, though, Nick didn't regret what he'd done. He had a feeling he'd kill for Cassie if he had to, just like he'd kill for any of his brothers or sisters or Warrick. It wasn't necessarily a part of himself that Nick was proud of, but it was as much a part of him as his Southern drawl. He'd just always been able to control himself better.

 

The best he could hope was that he'd be able to make some progress during his time off. Go back to counseling, take his binoculars to a park somewhere to catch up on his birdwatching, do whatever it took to get back to his roots and remember how to stay calm in the face of anger. Maybe Warrick could even help; he'd gotten a lot better at not losing his temper on rough cases, and maybe he could tell Nick how he'd done it. Some time off, some time to himself, and some time with his best friend, and maybe Nick would be just fine.

 

***

 

There was something vaguely familiar about the address on Greg's contact card, but Nick couldn't put his finger on why. He knew the neighborhood; it was about as close to the crime lab as the neighborhood Nick lived in, although it was in almost the opposite direction.

 

Nick really should have done this sooner. It felt a little too much like stalking for comfort, even though the information was available to everyone who worked at the crime lab. But he'd waited too long to talk to Greg, and his forced vacation had made him put some things into perspective.

 

It was his fourth night of unpaid leave and if he remembered correctly, Greg was off tonight. Off, but on call, which wasn't unusual. Part of Nick hoped that Greg would be called away, and part of him knew it would be better to get this over with, because the sooner they talked, the sooner they could mend things between them. It was important to Nick to be in good standing with Greg, not just because he was one of Warrick's lovers but also because he knew he'd neglected to get to know Greg the way he'd gotten to know the other CSIs.

 

He'd left for Greg's when Warrick had left for work. He hadn't been sure how long it would take to get there, since Warrick's place was farther from the crime lab than Nick's, but closer to Greg's new - Nick assumed - neighborhood.

 

Nick expected some difficulty in locating Greg's exact house; being near midnight, it was already dark, and the street addresses weren't uniformly labeled on the houses and mailboxes. Nick was saved from the trouble, as he soon discovered, because Greg was standing outside.

 

Greg's pose was subtly dramatic, worthy of the high contrast of the street lamps to the dark shadows of the house. He was hunched forward just a little, back to the wall, one knee bent up, that foot braced against the wall, his other leg braced forward just a bit. The way his hair fell over his forehead reminded Nick of the way he'd let his own formerly severe haircut grow long and shapeless; Greg's haircut had never been as tight as Nick's, but he hadn't let it hang down like it was now, either, unspiked and unstyled. Nick remembered when Greg had been working in the lab, his hair a different style almost every week, the topic of much teasing and conversation.

 

He remembered Greg's easygoing attitude, too, and how easy it had been to flirt with Greg even though at the time Nick hadn't thought of it as flirting. A lot of things had changed in the past few years, for Nick as well as for Greg. Nick's acceptance of his own sexuality had coincided with Greg's metamorphosis from the bright, funny lab tech to the more subdued and serious CSI. Nick couldn't help but wonder if things would have been different if he'd allowed himself to be attracted to men sooner than a few years ago, if the flirting he'd done with Greg would've turned into more than flirting.

 

Nick had always been aware of his attraction to men; as a teenager, it had been cause for fear and self-loathing, and he'd repressed it as much as he could, developing a ladies' man persona that had carried over into his life as recently as a couple years ago. The persistence of the persona had overlapped with Nick's newfound acceptance of his sexuality, because realizing he was okay with something was one thing and doing something about it was completely another thing.

 

He'd known for a while that he'd wanted to try being with men instead of women, but he'd procrastinated doing something about it because he was a little old to be experimenting. Which meant that he was a virgin where it counted, and he wasn't going to rush into anything with someone he wasn't sure wouldn't break his heart. He'd never imagined that Warrick's supportive friendship would turn into something more, but now that it had, Nick was glad he'd inadvertently ended up waited for the right person.

 

Even in the conservative household Nick had grown up in, sex outside of marriage had never been outwardly discouraged, though homosexuality and interracial relationships had been, even if the discouragement had taken the less obvious forms of anecdotes from Dad's rulings in court and jokes that were told around the kitchen table. On reflection, it was interesting that Nick's first gay relationship was with a black man, but Nick had never really thought of Warrick that way. They'd been friends from the beginning, there for each other through thick and thin, so despite the color of Warrick's skin, it made sense that it their friendship had been able to develop into something more.

 

It was possible that Warrick being black was another factor in how long it took for Nick to realize his attraction to Warrick, even if it that factor had been subconscious. Regardless of what had taken so long, Nick was glad things had worked out the way they had, because the slow buildup from friendship to romance was more valuable to Nick than any one-night stand with a stranger would have been. He'd waited too long to take what he really wanted to just do it once or with someone he didn't care about; Nick had been that route with women and he didn't want to repeat it with men.

 

Greg lifted his head when Nick pulled into the driveway, his foot dropping from the wall to the ground so he was standing on both feet. Nick probably should have called ahead, but he didn't want to give Greg the chance to avoid him again, although showing up out of the blue like this probably wouldn't enamor Greg of him at all.

 

If Greg had been inside, Nick could've hesitated, even decided to turn back around and go back to Warrick's or home. Which made Greg being outside a good thing and a bad thing, forcing Nick to go through with what he'd tentatively decided to do.

 

Nick leaned into opening the door, unable to take his eyes from Greg's as he did so. They'd both been avoiding this for so long and now, they didn't just need to talk about the time Nick had lost his temper almost a month ago. Now they had to talk about Nick's involvment with Warrick, too, and given how long they'd both avoided talking, it was going to be pretty awkward.

 

Nick thought he knew what to expect, but he really didn't. Because the next thing he knew, Greg was raising a hand to his mouth, only it wasn't just his hand. It was a cigarette between two of his fingers, and Greg took a long drag of it, ducking his head forward to do so and making his bangs fall into his eyes.

 

"You smoke?" he asked inanely, internally cringing at his stupidity. He deserved whatever sarcastic comment Greg came up with, about how either he smoked or Nick was hallucinating, but Greg didn't say anything, just nodded and lipped the end of his cigarette, avoiding Nick's gaze. Searching desperately for conversation, Nick dragged up the memory of Warrick telling him about the contract he had with Greg and his other partner, and how they'd compromised on the breath control play so they'd worry less about Greg's health. Which made him wonder why they'd let Greg smoke. "Your partner lets you smoke?"

 

Greg lifted his eyes but not his head, looking at Nick through his bangs and making Nick suddenly hope that Warrick had been telling the truth about letting Greg know he'd told Nick about their relatonship. Greg withdrew the cigarette from his mouth and let his arm hang limply by his side. "Just because I'm his slave sometimes doesn't mean he owns me."

 

If Greg was trying to shock Nick into wanting to leave... it was kind of working. Nick had no idea how to respond to that, to even start to react to it. He'd known Greg was into some kinky stuff, but slavery? How was that even kinky? And how could slavery be a 'sometimes' deal, and when did it not involve ownership? Nick briefly closed his eyes, unable to believe he was thinking these things. This wasn't what he'd thought he was signing on for when he'd come to apologize to Greg, and since he didn't know how to start to address Greg's comment about being a slave, he went back to the topic at hand, namely, Greg's smoking. "Aren't you worried about lung cancer and, and emphasema and stuff?"

 

"I almost died in an explosion." Greg put his foot back up against the wall and stared at the ground as he smoked. Nick heard a car engine somewhere in the distance, smelled the distinctive scent of Greg's cigarette, and wondered why Greg would want to be reminded of his near-death experience. "If that didn't kill me, I'll take my chances with a cancer stick."

 

"Why?" Nick hadn't come here to question Greg's lifestyle choices, but it didn't make any sense.

 

"Why not?" Greg retorted. Then, much to Nick's relief, he dropped the cigarette and ground it out with the heel of his shoe, sighing in exasperation as he hugged himself. He had to be cold, standing out here in nothing but a t-shirt. People did some crazy things for their addictions, but maybe he hadn't planned to be out here that long.

 

"Can we go inside to talk?"

 

Still hugging himself, Greg looked mournfully at the remains of his cigarette. "Gil doesn't let me smoke inside," he muttered, and it took a second for Nick's brain to catch up with Greg's words.

 

"Gil?" Greg's partner was - Gil? Gil as in their supervisor? No way. "Our Gil?" Nick didn't know any other Gils in Vegas, but maybe there was one, because he just couldn't picture it. Gil had to be in his fifties, and Greg couldn't be much older than thirty. Not to mention the fact that Gil Grissom was their boss, and as far Nick knew, pretty damn asexual. Gil and Greg? Warrick and Gil and Greg?

 

"None other," Greg said, hugging himself tighter. "Can I get a coat?"

 

"Why don't we just go inside," Nick suggested. He was having a hard time processing all this, and watching Greg give himself lung cancer wasn't going to help matters.

 

"Fine," Greg grumbled, and shouldered the door open, holding it open long enough for Nick to get inside. Nick wasn't sure if Greg's animosity was toward Nick himself or toward his lack of a cigarette; he had a feeling that either one might make Greg grumpy.

 

"Thank you," Nick said politely, feeling like he was walking on enough thin ice as it was. He could be calm about this, he really, really could. Greg... and Gil. Quirky lab tech and asexual boss. Warrick and asexual boss. A contract between the three of them that said Gil could only hold Greg's nose shut when Greg wanted to play with his breath. Gil controlled Greg's breath. Wasn't that an abuse of authority or something?

 

And Greg was... sometimes Gil's slave. Whatever the hell that meant. Had Greg even meant to tell him about Gil? He didn't seem to realize his slipup was a big deal, but then, Greg had to have other things on his mind, like his abandoned cigarette and the fact that he was alone with the guy who'd unapologetically pushed him around.

 

"Coffee?" Greg offered, instead of saying 'you're welcome'. Nick nodded distractedly, taking in the house, looking for signs of Gil or Greg or their life together. Nick couldn't believe they'd been together for years and Nick had never had a clue. Then again, he'd never had a clue that Warrick had been in love with him, so maybe Nick wasn't as empathetic as he thought. Or maybe it was more difficult to be empathetic with coworkers than with strangers.

 

The living room was cleaner than Nick would have expected if he'd known Gil was the other person living with Greg, given the clutter of Gil's office. The neatness had to be Greg's influence, given the relative organization of his lab and his locker area. A place for everything and everything in its place made it easier to analyze and catalog evidence, and probably made it easier for Greg and Gil to pretend they were just roommates when someone dropped by unexpectedly. From the looks of things, if Nick hadn't known that Greg was living with a lover, he wouldn't have guessed that Greg didn't live alone.

 

Greg pushed a coffee cup into his hand, then went to sit on the big, soft-looking couch Nick was instantly jealous of. Nick wanted to join him, just to see how it felt, but he wasn't sure Greg would be comfortable with Nick getting that close to him, so he took the smaller couch kitty-corner to the big one. Not sure how else to start, Nick took what he thought was the safe approach with a general apology. "Greg, I uh, I just wanted to apologize for everything."

 

"Wow, took you long enough," Greg muttered. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you're sleeping with Warrick now, would it?"

 

The accusation stung. "It's not like that," he protested. "I was gonna apologize earlier, but stuff kept happening, you know? Work kinda got in the way. I really am sorry, Greg," he repeated, wishing he had the right words to make Greg believe him. It was kind of like when he'd talked to Gil just after the incident, and ended up talking himself into anger management. Damn, Nick had assaulted Gil's lover. And Gil hadn't done anything to defend Greg's honor?

 

Next to Nick, Greg was curled up against the arm of the couch, his feet tucked under him as he stared at the coffee in his hands his hands. It reminded Nick of that first conversation about breath control play with Warrick, when he'd explained how he'd learned about Greg's involvement with it. Nick was starting to be really concerned about the magnitude of Greg's self-destructive behavior, and frankly, it pissed him off a little that Greg had put himself in a situation where Warrick had had to find him passed out. That couldn't have been easy for Warrick, was probably downright frightening. Didn't Greg realize that his behavior affected the people who cared about him?

 

"I know," Greg whispered, curling up even more around his coffee cup. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." Greg shook his head, stroking the rim of his coffee cup with his thumb. "I didn't mean that," he said more firmly. When he looked up, Nick was surprised to see Greg's eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I just - I haven't been able to..."

 

Nick didn't know what Greg was trying to say, but he did know one thing. Greg was hurting, and part of it was Nick's fault. Setting his cup down on the coffee table, Nick moved to Greg's couch, reaching for the young man to try and pull him into a comforting hug. He hated the thought of how Warrick had found Greg that time, and he thought it was incredibly selfish of Greg to put Warrick in that position, but that didn't mean Greg meant to harm anyone. There had to be a reason for Greg's behavior, and whatever was bothering him, it was clearly tearing him up. Whether or not it had anything to do with Nick, Nick could only surmise, but he couldn't just sit there and let Greg cry without trying to show him that it was okay. Nick had always found it harder to control his emotions than other men, and whenever he let himself cry in front of someone else, he usually assumed that the other person respected him less for it. He wasn't going to let Greg think the same thing.

 

Greg stiffened at first, resisting Nick's touch, but Nick didn't pull away. If Greg had pushed at him or tried to get away, Nick would've let him go, but Greg's resistance was more passive, indicating reluctance instead of fear. It occured to Nick that maybe his apology should include this, a physical apology for a physical action. He should show Greg that he wasn't a violent person by nature and maybe he could get Greg to trust him again.

 

"I hated you," Greg whispered to his coffee, clearly addressing Nick. That should have stung, except that the past tense was hopeful, and Nick knew he'd done plenty to deserve Greg's hatred. Pushed him, disrespected him, in front of his lover, no less. No, wait; Gil was Greg's lover, too, so it had been in front of both his lovers. Nick hadn't known that at the time, but that didn't make what he'd done any more right, and that didn't mean it hurt Greg any less. "Warrick was in love with you for fucking ever and you never had a clue and then all of a sudden you tell him you're interested and bam, that's just damn fine."

 

Damn. Nick'd had no idea that was what Greg'd been upset about. Not about pushing him, or sleeping with Warrick, but for not recognizing Warrick's interest for the years and years they'd been friends. That would be harder to explain than losing his temper. "Greg," he began, and tentatively put a hand on the shoulder closest to him. Greg was still leaning away from him, but he wasn't tense anymore, so that was a start. "I never wanted to hurt Warrick. If I'd known... well, I don't know what I would've done," he admitted. "Until a few years ago, I hadn't even come out to myself," he emphasized. "Man, I wish it hadn't taken that long, but it did and... I don't know how else to explain it."

 

Greg's thumb had migrated to the handle of the coffee cup, and he was rubbing the smooth surface, a little distractedly before he looked up at Nick, a hesitant look in his eyes. "I wanna say I can understand but... I can't." Greg shrugged, dropping his gaze to his coffee again. "I was lucky, I guess. I always thought it was just normal to think everything about me was okay, but compared to Warrick and Gil... I had it easy. No one ever made me feel bad about who or what I was."

 

Nick got the feeling that Greg knew more about Warrick's coming out process than Nick did, and he had to guess that it hadn't been much easier for Warrick than it had been for him. Maybe if it had been easier for Warrick, or maybe if he hadn't had Greg and Gil, he would've pushed for it harder. Nick was starting to realize that he and Warrick had a hell of a lot of lost time to make up for.

 

Maybe he had lost time to make up for with Greg, too. He hadn't taken Greg seriously as a CSI until recently, and in the context of the tensions between them, it was difficult to interpret his abilities objectively. "I never meant to do that," Nick said quietly. He'd verbally attacked Greg for his drab clothing choices and his somber demeanor, which pretty much made Nick a hypocrite because his personality had changed after his near-death experience, too. Except - Greg's behavior hadn't changed after the explosion as much as it had after Nick's kidnapping. Had Greg been acting depressed because of Nick? Had he been responsible for the dramatic change in Greg's behavior?

 

"I know," Greg sighed, tilting his gaze up to Nick's face. He looked down for a second to set his cup carefully on the coffee table, then surprised Nick by leaning into him, resting his head against Nick's chest. Nick sat awkwardly for a few second, arms in the air, before he finally put his arms around Greg in the hug he'd tried to offer earlier. Nick was so damn confused about everything he'd learned in the past half hour, but having Greg's solid weight in his arms made things feel... more okay.

 

Nick wondered if this was how Warrick felt when he got to comfort Nick, like his own feelings were less important than the man he was holding. Nick frowned now that Greg couldn't see him, wondering at how easy it was to feel protective of Greg. Sure, they'd always gotten along well when Greg had worked in the lab, but Nick had pretty much treated Greg like shit over the last month, directly and indirectly. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve Greg's trust, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

 

"Life sucks sometimes," Greg continued, and Nick smiled a little at that. He lowered his head to rest his cheek on the top of Greg's head; now that his face was clean-shaven, he could feel the texture of Greg's hair against his cheek and his chin. It was as soft as it looked, and smelled slightly of shampoo and smoke. Nick wondered if Greg had showered before he'd gotten there; maybe he'd taken a shower with Gil before Gil'd gone into work.

 

Nick frowned thoughtfully. He wasn't sure if that was a good image or a bad one. Either way, it was hard to picture his boss naked. And taking a shower. With Greg. Or with anyone, for that matter.

 

"And sometimes?" Greg looked up then, forcing Nick to lean back a little so he could meet Greg's eyes. "We take it out on the people closest to us."

 

Greg's comment could've meant one of two things. Closest might mean closest physically, but it might also mean emotionally. Nick would agree that both were true statements, but he wasn't sure which one Greg meant, because he wasn't sure if Greg considered them close emotionally. Greg had to have a lot emotionally invested with Nick for at least the past few years, as long as he'd known about Warrick's feelings for Nick and as long as he'd been involved with Warrick. Nick felt a little bad about that, being the one responsible for making Greg doubt Warrick's love for him, but wow, Nick was really glad that Greg and Gil had been selfless enough to let Warrick know it was okay to love all three of them at the same time. If it hadn't been for that, Nick might never have gotten his chance with Warrick, even after he'd admitted his own attraction to men to himself.

 

"Yeah, we do," Nick agreed simply, not bothering to clarify what kind of closeness Greg meant. It didn't matter, because they were close now, and they were finally talking about everything they should've talked about weeks ago. Forgiveness seemed to be in the offering, and as surprised as Nick was, he was relieved, too.

 

More surprised, though, because the next thing he knew, Greg was leaning up and kissing him. Nick froze, his arms instinctively tightening around Greg, then loosening when he realized what he was doing. Not kissing back, but... letting Greg kiss him, and why the hell was Greg kissing him?

 

It seemed to take Greg a little while to realize Nick wasn't kissing back, but until he did, Nick concentrated on breathing, because he knew he should be making Greg stop. Greg was Warrick's lover, Gil's lover, not his, and if Greg kept kissing him, life was going to hit a brand new level of complicated.

 

Greg finally pulled back, face flushed, lips parted, and he looked so good Nick was hardpressed not to lean down and kiss him again. For the first time. Whatever. He resisted, though, because he wasn't ready for the consequences. "Sorry," Greg gasped, pulling back and putting a hand over his mouth. "I thought..."

 

Nick knew exactly what Greg meant by closeness now. Damn. "It's okay," he assured Greg, willing his heart to stop beating so fast. "I..." He what? Liked it? Didn't know what to do now? "Guess there were some mixed messages."

 

"Yeah," Greg agreed, suddenly downcast, and it occured to Nick that it wasn't the first time Greg had thought of kissing him. He wouldn't have made a move like that if he hadn't wanted it and thought Nick wanted it, and that... that would definitely explain why Nick's kidnapping had affected Greg so much. Nick wasn't a vain man, but damn, how many people were in love with him?

 

"Hey," Nick said softly, cupping Greg's chin in his hand. He didn't know how he felt about Greg, but he did know that he didn't want Greg to think he'd done anything wrong. Greg obviously didn't feel guilty about doing this in the house he shared with Gil, so he'd probably discussed it with him, just like Warrick had discussed his feelings for Nick with them. Damn, and damn again. "It's okay. I'm - this is a lot of new information in one day, yanno? I'm still... tryin' to put it all together."

 

"Yeah." Greg looked relieved, a nervous but hopeful smile brightening up his face, and Nick smiled back. "It's hard to remember you can't, uh, read my mind."

 

Nick chuckled. "Wish I could," he commented. "Would make things a lot easier."

 

"Sometimes," Greg said, nodding. "Make a lot of things harder, too." The way he said it, Nick knew he didn't mean it as an innuendo, so he didn't have to blush. He knew what Greg was saying. Sometimes people thought things you didn't want to hear. That was why they were thoughts and not words spoken out loud. "Maybe I should get out of your lap," Greg murmured. Greg wasn't quite in his lap, but Greg was being figurative, and maybe his 'harder' statement had been sort of literal, too. Nick didn't look down to find out. That was too much information too soon.

 

"Maybe," he agreed with a slight grin, slipping his arm from around Greg's shoulders. He picked up his abandoned coffee cup, just to have something to do with his hands. He noticed that it was lukewarm when he took a sip, but at least it washed away a little of the aftertaste of smoke. "So, I guess we have a lot to talk about."


	9. Chapter 9  Discussion

  
Author's notes: Nick and Greg finally get to discussing what needs to be discussed.  


* * *

Before they dove into discussing all that needed to be discussed, Greg got up to heat their coffee, probably just as much a delay tactic as it was Greg being a good host. Nick certainly didn't mind the few moments it allowed him to be alone, to organize his thoughts and to appreciate for the first time that yes, the couch actually was as comfortable as it looked.

 

When Greg returned, his friendly smile warmed Nick as much as the mug Greg pressed into his hands. Greg sat at the end of the couch where he'd been before, only this time, he turned to face Nick, his legs tucked up under his body as he leaned his right side against the back of the couch. Following his lead, Nick mirrored the position, and found it to be both comfortable and amenable to conversation.

 

Greg took a sip of his coffee, cupping the mug in his hands as he peered up at Nick, his eyes filled with questions Nick hoped he'd be able to answer. Nick also had his own questions, and he knew Greg would do his best to answer them. It would probably take a while, which made Nick grateful for the coffee and for the fact that they both had the night off.

 

"You probably think we're perverts," Greg began unexpectedly, the hope that his assumption was wrong implicit in his voice. "Just going around kissing and sleeping with everyone."

 

Nick fought a smile and lost, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he rested his head on his arm hooked over the back of the couch. "No, I don't think that," he assured Greg, relieved and slightly amused by Greg's uncertainty. At least he wasn't the only one. "I don't know why Warrick's been in love with me for so long, or why you like me too, but I'm flattered."

 

Greg's eyebrows rose. "It's only flattery if it's done with an intent to manipulate," he countered. "We just good old-fashioned want you."

 

"Never had it put that way before." Nick chuckled, trying to ignore the blush he could feel spreading on his face. Warrick and Greg wanted him. It felt... so good to be wanted, especially by these men, these attractive, talented men who were desirable in their own right. If Nick had looked past the blinders of his own insecurities, he would've seen it in both of them much sooner. "You guys are so lucky," he murmured, sinking even more into the comfort of the sofa as he studied Greg with heavy eyelids. It was unreal, hearing these words out of Greg's mouth and believing them. He was thinking about Greg's earlier comment, his response to Nick's honesty about not coming out to himself. Greg had never had that problem. "You know what you want and you're not afraid to take it."

 

"Luck has nothing to do with it." Greg's expression was serious, but not unhappy. Nick liked it. "I wanted Gil for a long time before I did anything about." The happiness faded a bit from Greg's eyes, leaving him looking thoughtful. "I wouldn't have thought there was a possibility of anything happening if it wasn't for the Mona Taylor case. I hate that someone had to die for me to get the balls to go after Gil."

 

"Mona Taylor," Nick murmured thoughtfully, bringing up the memories of the case. Some cases blurred over time, but Mona's case was one of the ones that had been burned into his memory. The most striking thing about that case had been Lady Heather's Dominion, and how casually Cath had accepted the lifestyle, the desire to be beaten, whipped, humiliated, a need so strong that some people actually paid for it.

 

Nick wondered if Greg was like the people who went there to do that. He knew it would be a generalization, and he knew would be variety even among Lady Heather's patrons. Still, with Greg's interest in breath control play and calling himself a slave, whatever that entailed, it seemed likely that Greg could very well be one of her patrons. And maybe that was why Greg was mentioning the case. "The dominatrix who worked for Lady Heather," he recounted. "She got some bad business off the books and the guy accidentally killed her by holding onto the straws too long." Huh. That was breath control play, too, but there was an important difference. Mona had done it to make money, and the husband had done it to pretend to control his controlling wife; Greg did it for himself, though Nick didn't completely understand the motivation. Maybe Greg would explain it to him some day.

 

"Yeah." Greg nodded. "It was when Gil started talking about the evidence with us, about how Mona was a switch and everything. I - I'm a switch," Greg clarified. "Although Gil brings out the submissive in me, but that's another story." Greg grinned, obviously taking in Nick's blush. "For another time," he continued, his lips turning up in a smile, and he paused to take a sip of his coffee before continuing. "Anyway, the way he was talking about it, like he talked about switches and masks and dominance all the time, and he wasn't judgmental at all, well. I knew I had to take a chance."

 

Nick grinned widely, intrigued by Greg's story. Even if it was a little weird because after all, they were talking about Greg, the guy Nick attacked a few weeks ago, and Gil, their boss. But he was too curious to let it weird him out. "What'd you do?"

 

Greg flushed brightly, looking at Nick with wide eyes. "Let's just say it involved Lady Heather as a middle man," Greg evaded. "The rest is a story for another time."

 

Nick couldn't honestly say that he was surprised, or, really, that he was disappointed, either. If Greg told him what had happened, he'd probably be too embarassed to look Gil in the eye for weeks. Maybe longer. Nick definitely appreciated having the chance to get used to the idea before Greg shared any more details with him. "Hey, fine with me, man." Grinning, Nick took a sip of his coffee, then set it down on his knee. "Guess I don't have to ask if it worked out."

 

Greg laughed. "No," he smiled. "Worked out great."

 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying their coffee and the ease with which they could just sit together without the awkwardness that had filled their silences before. Nick hadn't thought it would be so easy to make the transition from not talking at all to settling in to talk all night. After not having talked to Greg for so long, Nick was just grateful that Greg was willing to talk, even if the beginning of the night had been less than promising.

 

He thought he knew now how Greg had managed to avoid him for so long. Since their fight in the break room, they hadn't been assigned to a case together until the magnitude of Cassie's case had required so much manpower. Since Gil was the co-supervisor, he had the first and last word on who was assigned to which cases, as Nick had come to appreciate when Gil had been gone for a week and Nick had taken over as supervisor. Gil had probably purposely assigned them to different cases for as long as he could.

 

How Gil had managed to affect the assignments when Cath was the active supervisor, Nick didn't know. Luck of the draw, probably, or maybe Gil wasn't the only one who'd wanted to keep Greg and Nick apart. Gil had a personal stake in separating them, for Greg's own protection whether it was physical or emotional, although if Gil had thought that Nick was seriously a threat to Greg, he would've suspended Nick then instead of waiting until he went off on Locke.

 

Which meant that Gil didn't see Nick as a real threat, and that possibly, his reasons for keeping them apart were professional as well as personal. Catherine had done the same thing, though Nick hadn't realized it at the time. As supervisors, Gil and Catherine had to've been aware that even if Nick wasn't a real threat to Greg, his presence would've made Greg uncomfortable and maybe even affected Greg's ability to focus on his job.

 

On the one hand, Nick was glad for Greg's sake that Greg hadn't had to put up with him before he was ready, but on the other hand, being forced to work together might have facilitated this conversation a lot sooner. There was also the fact that while he'd known about Warrick by the time he'd come back to work, he hadn't known that Greg was one of Warrick's lovers, and if they'd talked then, Greg probably would've ended up revealing something Nick wasn't ready to hear.

 

"So how did Warrick end up joining you guys?" he asked curiously, now that he knew what it was that had attracted Greg to Gil; he still wasn't sure how Warrick fit in, though he couldn't fault their taste.

 

Greg dropped his gaze to his coffee cup. "Warrick told you about the time he found me passed out after the bcp?" Nick nodded solemnly, and Greg glanced up just long enough to register it. "At the time, Gil and I were still... dating. He knew about a lot of my kinks, but I hadn't told him about the bcp yet. I was afraid it'd be too much for him. Warrick... didn't know Gil and I were dating, so he thought it was up to him to get me to stop.

 

"I started avoiding him, and Gil noticed. I wouldn't tell him what it was about, though. He was worried but he didn't push, and I started saving the bcp for the nights I was the only one with the night off. I didn't want Gil to find me like Warrick had, and I didn't want Warrick to see it again, either."

 

Nick wondered why Greg would do it at all; why he'd started, and why, after Warrick had found him, he'd kept doing it. But Nick didn't interrupt, since his original question had been about Warrick's involvment in their relationship, not the bcp. Nick would ask about the bcp later, once he understood the dynamics of their relationship better.

 

"Then, there was the explosion." Greg gripped his mug tightly, probably as affected by the memory as Nick was affected by the memory of being buried alive. "After I got out of the hospital, Warrick showed up to take care of me - at the same time Gil got there." Greg smiled ironically. "Long story short, Warrick figured out Gil and I were together, Gil assumed I'd fall in love with Warrick and tried to leave me to him, and eventually, I convinced him that wasn't going to happen. I was in love with him and I didn't want him to leave, and I just started rambling, telling him about the bcp and how Warrick had found me and how I thought Gil wouldn't want me anymore if he knew about it. And somehow..." Greg smiled more sincerely. "He convinced me loved me anyway."

 

Nick returned Greg's smile, admiring Gil's determination to be with Greg despite Greg's insecurities and self-destructive behavior. Nick didn't know how they'd gotten Greg to agree to conditions in a contract, but that was a topic for later, too. He was too curious as to how Warrick had become a part of their relationship. "That's great, man. So how'd you two hook up with Warrick?"

 

Greg shrugged and smiled, fidgeting a little before he looked up at Nick. "Well, while Gil was off thinking I was in love with Warrick, Warrick was spending a lot of time with me, trying not to bring up the bcp. So we talked a lot, and since he knew I was dating a guy, he started talking about his own crush." Greg's smile quirked, amused. "Which was you, of course."

 

"Of course," Nick repeated, blushing.

 

"Mmhm. He was convinced you were straight, but he was determined not to let his crush interfere with your friendship. But he wasn't dating, either. It's interesting," Greg said thoughtfully. "Once I convinced Gil that I wasn't going to break up with him and he convinced me he wasn't going to leave because of the bcp, we moved in together. And we got comfortable talking again and I told him about Warrick's crush on you. Kind of to try and convince him that he wouldn't go for me, you know? And Gil asked if I was attracted to him." Greg paused. "I said if I wasn't with Gil, I might be interested in Warrick. Gil said..." Greg shook his head, a disbelieving smile on his face. "He said he didn't want to keep me from being young, having the chance to be with someone my own age. That maybe I could be happier with Warrick, and he wasn't going to try to hold onto me. And I said 'screw that, I'm not goin' anywhere. You make me happy'."

 

Nick grinned, amused. He could imagine Greg saying that.

 

Greg's expression grew solemn then. "I was spending a lot of time with Warrick, though, and I was starting to fall with him a little. I've always..." Greg smiled, a bit sadly. "I've always fallen in love too easily."

 

"Me too," Nick agreed, sharing a smile with Greg. He was struck by the way Greg was referring to Warrick's feelings as a 'crush'. It was kind of a relief, actually, to think that Warrick hadn't actually been in love with him for ten years. That was a lot to live up to; maybe being in love recently had felt like forever to Warrick. Sometimes when you were in love, it was hard to remember not being in love.

 

"Yeah," Greg sighed happily. "Gil could see it, too. He told me he'd be okay with sharing me with Warrick, but I didn't want to do that to him. But then... I figured out why he was okay with sharing." Greg grinned crookedly. "He liked Warrick, too."

 

"Gil have a thing for all his employees?" It should have been cause for concern, but instead, Nick just found it amusing. He'd thought Gil was asexual when all along, he'd probably just been hiding feelings he thought - correctly - were inappropriate.

 

"Oh, man. You have no idea how reluctant Gil was to get involved. Even just with me, and I didn't technically work for him at first." Greg's eyes danced with amusement. "I don't anymore, either. Relationships between a supervisor and employee are very frowned upon, so officially, I work for Cath now. So does Warrick." Greg smirked. "And so do you, don't you?"

 

Nick's face heated up as he realized that was true. "Yeah, Ecklie put us back on graveyard but Warrick and I still work for Catherine," he remembered. The paperwork had never been put through, and Nick had just assumed it was Gil procrastinating paperwork again. "Are you saying..."

 

"I'm not saying anything." Greg leaned back, a satisfied smile on his face, which led Nick to wonder if Greg was just playing with him. It was kind of like the flirting they used to do.

 

Nick could figure out the rest of the story for himself; Greg realized Gil wanted Warrick too, which led to them convincing Warrick to join them in a threesome, or maybe the relationship had come first. Either way, Nick knew enough to feel justified in moving on to another topic.

 

"Greg," he began once he'd drained his again-lukewarm coffee and set the empty mug on the coffee table, "I'm sorry I let us drift apart, and I'm even more sorry I pushed you. I don't know what's been going on with me lately."

 

Greg smiled gently, the acceptance and understanding in his gaze unexpected. "I do." Setting down his own cup, Greg scooted closer, putting his hand over Nick's on the back of the couch. "You've been trying to come to terms with what happened to you, taking it out on yourself and others when it gets to be too much."

 

Nick ducked his head. Yeah, Greg was right. He'd been trying so hard to hold everything in that when he couldn't hold it in anymore, it was hard to control himself. "I know," he said, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry."

 

"Nick. It's okay." Greg stroked a thumb over the back of his hand, leaning his head to the side to gaze up at Nick, the ease in his posture relaxing Nick a little. "The important thing is now you know you can't handle it on your own. Now you just need to find an outlet."

 

"An outlet?"

 

"Yeah," Greg nodded. "Doesn't have to be bcp like I'm into, but I'd be willing to try it with you if you want." Greg smiled shyly, and Nick found himself blushing. Greg wanted to try breath control play with him. Nick hadn't realized that it could be an outlet as opposed to a rush, but maybe it was both for Greg. And the look in Greg's eyes when he'd mentioned how much better it had been with a partner, Nick got the feeling Greg found it erotic, too. And Greg wanted to do something erotic like that with him?

 

Well, Greg obviously wanted to kiss him, since he'd kissed him just a few hours ago. But just because Greg made it sound good didn't mean Nick wanted to try something like that. "Um," he began, but Greg saved him from having to reject the idea.

 

"Or you could go with Gil next time he goes to the amusement park. He likes the rollercoasters, they help him take his mind off things. He tried taking me a few times, but I got sick, so when he doesn't feel like going alone, he takes Warrick." Greg grinned, amused. "It's not Warrick's favorite outlet, but Gil spars with him sometimes, so they help each other."

 

"Gil? Spars?" Nick couldn't see it. Warrick, yeah, but Gil?

 

"The behind-the-desk persona is deceiving," Greg grinned. "Gil packs a heck of a punch."

 

"And you know this because...?" Nick certainly hoped Greg's kinks didn't include Gil punching him. He knew some people were into spanking and flogging, but punching? That just seemed like abuse.

 

"They let me watch," Greg explained, and Nick sighed in relief. It was probably unrealistic to think Gil would agree to something like that, anyway. He wouldn't want to hurt Greg. "They tried to teach me, but I'm not exactly in their weight group, if you know what I mean. And it just defeats the whole purpose if they go easy on me, yanno?"

 

Nick nodded. He'd never been into boxing as a sport, but he understood the point of it. "I didn't know Warrick sparred," he commented. "I thought he just hit the gym and the punching bags when he wanted to hit something."

 

"Well, he does that too," Greg agreed. "Sometimes it's better to do something solo so you can completely let go, not have to worry about hurting someone else. Having a partner means you have to be more controlled, which is sometimes what you want, sometimes not. It depends on what you feel like." Greg paused, then grinned. "One of my personal favorite outlets is sex. But I won't corrupt you with the details."

 

Nick blushed again, more aware than ever of Greg's hand on top of his. "That's probably for the best," he agreed, grinning self-consciously. Sex, huh. He couldn't picture Greg and Gil having sex, wasn't quite ready for that, but he couldn't help but picture what it would be like to lose himself in Warrick, or maybe even Greg. God, he bet Greg and Warrick looked hot together. Maybe they'd let him watch that workout sometime.

 

Had he really just thought that?

 

"Yeah," Greg grinned, blushing too. He was fidgeting a little where he was sitting, drawing his legs up from where they were tucked under his body, bringing them in front of his chest. Probably hiding an erection after talking and thinking about all the things he found hot, from controlling his breath with Gil to watch Gil and Warrick spar to his personal favorite, sex. Nick wasn't young enough that he could still get turned on by something as simple as a thought, but there were a variety of appealing thoughts swimming through his mind right now and he was a little turned on himself. Fortunately, it wasn't too obvious yet.

 

What was making itself obvious was Nick's complaining stomach. Morning was approaching and his body's need for food was more urgent than the unexpected thoughts of sex. "What time is it?" he asked, his hand still trapped by Greg's. He could've withdrawn his hand from under Greg's, but he didn't want to do anything to make Greg uncomfortable, and he didn't want to lose Greg's touch before he had to, either. Greg's hand tightened on his hand to rotate his wrist a little, and Nick found himself holding his breath. So simple, but it felt so good.

 

"Look at that, time for lunch." Laughing a little nervously, Greg leaned forward to push himself up from the couch, pausing when he realized it brought their faces closer together. Nick hung in that moment, breathing Greg's air, the breath that left Greg's parted lips and brushed over his own. Greg's eyes were on Nick's lips, then so was his mouth, pressing firmly but gently at the same time. Nick held his breath, torn between kissing Greg and waiting so that he could discuss it with Warrick first.

 

Waiting would be the right thing to do, but he couldn't resist pressing his lips back against Greg's first, his eyes dropping closed as he did. Greg was only the second man he'd kissed, and it was different than kissing Warrick, softer, more tentative, and most notably, Greg didn't have any facial hair. That felt different.

 

He wanted more. Wanted to bring his hand up to cup the side of Greg's face, wanted to deepen the kiss, taste the inside of Greg's mouth and find out if he'd slip his tongue into Nick's mouth the way Warrick did, gentle, no pressure, the kiss slowly deepening as Warrick cupped the back of his head. He couldn't, though, couldn't justify it until he was sure everyone was okay with it. That was important to him, just as it had been important that he knew Warrick's partners were aware and agreeable to Nick being with Warrick.

 

"You're doing it," Greg whispered inexplicably, and Nick opened his eyes, confused. He pulled back a bit, but didn't get a chance to ask; Greg continued before he could say anything. "Breathing with me. It's what I do with Gil sometimes. Even Warrick lets me do it."

 

"You mean..." Nick glanced down at Greg's lips, then back up again. "Breath control play?"

 

Greg nodded. "Usually it's more intense than this - we share breath. I only breathe in when he breathes out... he only breathes in when I breathe out. If you can hold your breath longer than your partner, you have to be... really in tune with their body, know when's long enough to make it intense, when's too long and you have to stop sharing."

 

Wow. That did sound like it could be intense. And yeah, what Nick was doing with Greg wasn't anywhere near that, but it wasn't as scary as he'd thought it would be. "You... have some good ideas."

 

Greg chuckled softly. "I didn't exactly invent it. It's been around for a while."

 

"Right," Nick agreed, his face heating up for about the tenth time that morning, then laughed when his stomach grumbled again. Well, that was one ice-breaker he couldn't argue with. "So. Lunch?"

 

Fortunately, Greg seemed to realize it wasn't a brush-off. Greg probably knew how reluctant Nick was to enjoy himself since he hadn't talked to Warrick yet, having his own experience with falling for Warrick while he was with Gil. Either that, or Greg was as hungry as Nick was, which was good too. "I can make some sandwiches," Greg offered. "Grilled cheese and tomato soup?"

 

"Sounds good," Nick said honestly, looking forward to having something warm in his stomach. "And - thanks." He was thanking Greg for everything, really. For talking to him, telling him how he and Gil and Warrick had gotten together, and showing him that some things weren't as intimidating as he'd thought.

 

Greg just smiled, and Nick knew he didn't have to say anything more.


	10. Chapter 10 The Tour

  
Author's notes: Nick gets a tour of the house and the master bedrooms.  


* * *

After lunch, they decided to page Gil and Warrick, Gil with their home number and Warrick with Nick's cell. Greg and Gil lived together, officially; they had the same address on their contact information at work, and if anyone asked about it, Greg told him, they said the two of them were roommates.

 

It was a believable half-lie. They were roommates, but not in the sense most people would assume, where they shared a decently sized townhouse instead of an actual room. They did share a room, too, and there were three spare bedrooms, for when they had guests or an unexpected visitor. Greg gave him a tour of the house; it was a big house compared to most of the residentials in Vegas, meant to be shared by three or four people, but it worked for two people too, affordable to Greg and Gil between Gil's supervisor salary and Greg's lab tech salary, combined with the fact that Greg came from money.

 

Nick hadn't known that before, deceived by Greg's behavior and dress and completely non-arrogant attitude, but if Nick had learned one thing from being a CSI, it was that you couldn't fit people into boxes. Greg didn't fit in a rich box or a kink box or a punk box, or anything that was just one or two or three categories. Just like most people Nick had known throughout his lifetime, Greg was his own person, one who lived according to his own principles. One of these days, it would sink in, and Nick would stop being surprised when he learned that people close to him did things he didn't expect.

 

The master bedrooms were mirror images of each other in terms of layout, king-sized beds dominating the rooms, the attached closets on the far side of the room, the bathroom shared between the two rooms. The similarities ended with the layout; the one Nick would peg Gil's room was mostly impersonal, with relatively few photographs on the walls and no furniture besides the bed and nightstands and dresser and lamps. The most distinctive thing about the room was the desk, cluttered with papers and journals like Gil's office at work. "He keeps his laptop in here," Greg said, opening the long, narrow drawer in the center of the desk. It was empty. "Well, when he's not at work. That's about it for this room."

 

The shared bathroom was as big as each of the bedrooms, the shower taking up one end of the wall. When Nick peeked inside, he saw four shower heads, two along the back of the wall, one on each side wall adjacent with the bedrooms. It was the biggest shower Nick had ever seen, and Nick wondered if he'd ever get a chance to try it out, even as he blushed at the images of what Greg and Gil might do when they were not-showering in there. Nick and Warrick had already had fun in the showers they shared, and they didn't have as much space - or experience, or kink - as Greg and Gil did.

 

Nick's eyes widened as he realized that maybe Warrick did have as much experience and kink as they did, and maybe - just maybe - they'd made use of the fact that the shower was more than big enough for three people. Did they all take showers together when Warrick spent the day with them? Did they stay in the same bed? It was certainly big enough for that. And even if it was just kissing and groping and rubbing, Nick knew there was a lot of fun to be had in the shower or the bed.

 

"And now, for the pièce de résistance," Greg boasted, moving into his own bedroom. The first thing Nick noticed was how much more colorful it was than Gil's. The walls were lined with posters in addition to pictures; concert posters mingling with photos that, on closer inspection, Nick realized were photos of Greg, alone and with his friends. Surfing, gearing up to scuba dive, and a variety of other activities, some posed, some not. In the corner of the room where Gil's room had a tall lamp, Greg's room had a surfboard, blue and green with signs of wear and tear. It wasn't just a decoration, obviously; Greg actually used it.

 

"And these are my babies," Greg said proudly, drawing Nick's attention to some fishtanks on the dresser. There were two separate tanks, each with a single fish, one blue, one red. "I'll have to introduce you to the ones in the front room," Greg said, waving a finger at each of his 'babies'. "The ones Gil and Warrick got me are out there."

 

Nick nodded, leaning forward to peer at the fish. They were bettas, the ones that had to be kept separate unless you wanted them to fight, but they weren't in normal round fishbowls like Nick had always seen them kept in. They had tanks complete with decorations and bubbling filters, and looked pretty content for creatures that spent their lives inside plexiglas walls.

 

"Okay, well that's the tour," Greg said, straightening up. "Gil'll be here soon, so I have to brush my teeth." Nick raised his eyebrows in question, and Greg grinned sheepishly. "He won't kiss me if I taste like smoke."

 

"Don't blame 'im," Nick didn't hesitate to say. That was one thing he wasn't going to encourage Greg to do, no matter how much he wanted to make sure he didn't offend Greg. And if the man Greg loved and lived with discouraged it, then Nick had nothing to worry about.

 

"I know I shouldn't," Greg continued, flipping the light switch as he returned to the bathroom. "It just calms me down when my thoughts are racing, yanno? And it helps my hands not shake. I hate it when they do that. Can't hold a damn thing," he complained.

 

"Isn't there a pill you can take or something?"

 

Greg shrugged, and reached into the medicine cabinet for toothpaste, getting his toothbrush from beside the sink. "It's mostly nerves. Happened ever since the explosion." Greg's nerves must have been bothering him then, because his hands were shaking slightly as he put toothpaste on the toothbrush. It was just a fine tremor, one Nick might not have noticed if they hadn't been talking about it.

 

"Maybe you just need an outlet," Nick suggested, only partly joking, and Greg laughed.

 

Making quick work of brushing his teeth, Greg spit and then rinsed with mouthwash, going through motions Nick wouldn't have deemed necessary because the second time they'd kissed, he hadn't noticed the taste of smoke. But maybe Gil was more sensitive to the taste, or maybe it was Greg, not wanting to take a chance of disappointing him. Greg knew he shouldn't be smoking; it was probably a habit that was as hard to quit as any other addiction. "Hm," Greg murmured, looking at Nick sideways. "Maybe I do."

 

Greg's smirk said more than Greg's words could, hinting that Greg was... a little impressed with Nick for throwing his own words back at him, for daring to show his intolerance for the behavior. "So, are you kissable now?" he asked, knowing full well that he was setting himself up for another kiss. Not like Nick was as uncertain as he'd been before; Warrick's teasing Don't do anything I wouldn't do hadn't sounded jealous at all.

 

"You tell me," Greg practically dared him, and pressed his lips to Nick's. No longer tentative, Greg kissed him freely, opening his mouth against Nick's and letting Nick sample the aftertaste of mouthwash.

 

"Mmm. Minty," he agreed, grinning at Greg. "I think Gil will approve." It still wasn't easy to picture Gil and Greg kissing, but after ten hours of talking and thinking about it, it had started to sink in that yes, Greg and Gil were together, and no, it wasn't going to freak Nick out. He'd know for sure in a few minutes when Gil arrived, because seeing was different than just knowing, and he was at the point where he was curious to see how he'd react.

 

"Good," Greg said enthusiastically, grabbing Nick's hand. Nick grinned; he hadn't seen Greg this happy in a long time. "Cuz he'll be here soon."


	11. Chapter 11  Domesticity

Nick felt like a kid peering out the windows each time they heard a car drive down the street, looking to see who would get back from work first. Only now, it wasn't Nick and his sisters waiting for their parents, it was Nick and Greg waiting for Gil or Warrick. Nick wasn't sure why he'd expected Gil to show up first, since he always worked later than the rest of them, but it was a relief when the Yukon pulled in without the Denali.

 

Normally, after a night off and having to entertain himself, Warrick would've been a sight for sore eyes. He was still a damn good sight to see, but this time he'd had the benefit of Greg's company all night. It was amazing the leaps and bounds by which a friendship could re-emerge in the passage of ten hours, but Nick felt closer to Greg than he had when they'd sort of been friends years ago. It was a new kind of bond, complete with the comfort that came with knowing they were both into guys and both in a complicated relationship, comfort that could only exist to this extent with someone who was a member of the same said relationship.

 

"Hey," Warrick chuckled, seeming amused that Nick was waiting for him at the door. Nick smiled sheepishly, not having planned to seem so eager, but Warrick didn't seem to mind.

 

It was the most natural thing in the world to kiss Warrick hello, even in someone else's home, even in front of Greg, even though Nick had actually forgotten about the latter until he'd actually kissed Warrick. He blushed, but slipped his hand into Warrick's, turning so Greg would see that they'd actually remembered him.

 

Greg was grinning from ear to ear as they looked at him, then, without warning, launched himself at Warrick, looping both arms around Warrick's neck as he greeted him with an enthusiastic kiss. Warrick looked surprised, even though he should have been more used to kissing in front of someone else than Nick. Warrick's free arm came around Greg's lower back, holding him loosely until the kiss concluded. "Well, hello to you too," he murmured, gazing down at Greg.

 

"Mmmm, hello," Greg murmured back, then stage-whispered to Warrick, "Mind if I kiss Nick, too?" Nick's eyebrows shot up, surprised by Greg's request for permission after Greg had already kissed him three times that morning. Nick's stomach twisted in a knot; maybe they'd done the wrong thing by kissing before talking to Warrick about it. Maybe Warrick would be upset, say that Greg shouldn't kiss Nick and then Nick would have to confess that they'd already kissed and Warrick would be upset and...

 

"I think that's really up to Nick," Warrick said instead, much to Nick's relief. Nick didn't have much time to relax, though, because Greg was leaning toward him, pressing a hand to Nick's chest, his other arm still looped around Warrick's neck. This kiss was tender, not expectant like the first or tentative like the second or casual like the third. Nick found himself smiling into the kiss, then sucked in a breath when Warrick surprised him with another kiss. Usually he'd fall right into it, but with Greg standing right there, still touching him, Nick was reluctant. Fortunately, Warrick pulled away before it could get too deep, and smiled at both of them. "Has Nick gotten the grand tour yet?"

 

"Yup," Greg answered, and slipped his free arm around Nick's neck, making a triangle out of the three of them. Since they didn't seem to be going anywhere, Nick kept his right arm around Warrick's waist and tentatively slipped his left arm around Greg's waist, looking nervously at Warrick when their arms bumped. Warrick just smiled back at him, and pulled him closer. They were all connected, and it was... amazing. "We didn't make any breakfast yet. Was hoping you'd make some of your famous chili."

 

Warrick snorted. "Is that your subtle way of asking if I'll make breakfast?" he asked, and when Greg nodded enthusiastically, Warrick smiled. "Fine, if you can manage to let me go."

 

"What, three-headed Broadway star can't make chili together?" Greg complained, but grinned and stepped back so they could start to untangle. Warrick chuckled and ruffled Greg's hair, then headed for the kitchen. Greg followed him, and a few seconds later, so did Nick.

 

***

 

Warrick had a lot of chili recipes in his repertoire, ones that varied by taste and the time it took to cook. He could make chili in fifteen minutes or five hours, depending on what the goal was, and this morning, he chose a recipe that took about an hour to make. It would give Gil a chance to get home by the time it was done, and the rest of them the chance to eat at a reasonable time if Gil wasn't home by then.

 

Nick and Warrick had already been invited to spend the day, and if Nick hadn't wanted to accept, he wouldn't have paged Warrick to come here after work instead of his own house. Greg had been the one to give the invitation; Warrick was always welcome, Greg said, and now, by extension, so was Nick. Nick still didn't know how Gil felt about Nick finally coming out to Warrick, didn't know if Gil had the same reaction as Greg or if his reaction was completely different or even nonexistant. Having not known until today that Gil was even attracted to, well, people of any kind, never mind kinky males, Nick had no way to predict Gil's reaction. At least Gil was aware that Nick would be there this morning, along with Warrick, and that they'd be spending the day. Nick wouldn't want to surprise him with that kind of news.

 

The doorbell rang with about fifteen minutes left to go for the chili recipe, and Nick stayed by the stove with Warrick, not wanting to interrupt Greg's reunion with Gil. Warrick smiled at Greg over his shoulder, still absently stirring the chili.

 

Gil entered with much less fanfare than Warrick had, setting his laptop bag on the floor by the small table next to the door, his keys clinking onto the table as Greg went to greet him. Nick found himself watching the reunion, curious to observe the dynamics of their relationship before he let himself get nervous about being there, in his boss's home with his boss's lovers. Nick just... didn't have a place in his head for that yet.

 

"Something came for you today," Gil said thoughtfully, showing Greg some kind of book in his hand. It had a glossy paper cover like a journal, but Nick couldn't tell what it was from this distance. Greg snatched it from Gil and started leafing through it right away, Gil's eyes not leaving him the whole time. "You can look, but we're not buying anything."

 

Greg seemed oblivious to Gil, too intent on what must have been a catalog of some kind. "But," Greg began, obviously gearing up for a big sales pitch, "our mass spec is practically obsolete. Look," he said, thrusting the open catalog at Gil. "High res. Why don't we have a high res mass spec?"

 

"Because we don't need it," Gil said simply, ignoring the catalog in his face. "You're in the field now anyway, Greg. It's not like you'll be able to use it."

 

"That's what you think," Greg retorted good-naturedly, grinning as he looped his arms around Gil's neck and leaned up for a kiss. "So, how was work?"

 

Gil awkwardly returned the kiss, then glanced into the kitchen. Nick tried to pretend he hadn't been watching, but it was too late. "Greg," Gil said instead of answering, "we have guests."

 

"No," Greg said sarcastically, but he was smiling. "We have guests? Hm, you think I would've noticed that."

 

"Greg..."

 

"Okay, nevermind," Greg said lightly, giving Gil a peck on the cheek before he returned to the kitchen, catalog still in hand. "Warrick's making chili," he called over his shoulder, as if Gil couldn't smell it. "Should be almost done. You have really good timing." Instead of waiting for Gil's answer, Greg settled in at the kitchen table, engrossed in the catalog again. He didn't seem to mind that he couldn't have anything from the catalog, just as long as he could look.

 

Gil approached the kitchen almost cautiously, not taking his eyes from Nick as if he expected him to attack or run away at any moment. Fight or flight, Nick wasn't sure, but this was definitely going to be awkward. "Nick," Gil finally said. "How's your time off treating you?"

 

Okay, so this was going to be small talk, pretending Nick didn't know that Gil was with Greg and Warrick and Gil didn't know Nick was with Warrick, too. That was okay. He could live with small talk, until Gil was ready for more. "Not bad, actually." He took a seat at the table, across from Greg, where his coffee had been sitting for about twenty minutes. "I've been visiting Cassie in the mornings. They think she's going to be released soon." Nick smiled, remembering what Cassie had told him about going home. "You know that woman I met, Sage? She's Cassie's godmother. So Cassie'll be going there instead of the foster system."

 

Gil looked at him thoughtfully, then smiled slightly. "That's good, Nick." He sounded sincere, and Nick smiled back, letting Gil see how happy it made him that Cassie was going to be with family instead of strangers. "I'm sorry you won't be able to visit her in the hospital anymore."

 

Nick smiled more widely. That was something Gil didn't know yet. "Actually, I already talked to Sage," he informed them. "She says I can come visit any time I want. I mean, I know it won't be as often as I want, and I'll have to call beforehand, but..." Nick's eyes flickered down to the table, then back up at Gil. "She's lost the most important people in her life, in... the cruelest way possible. I want... to stay in her life if I can."

 

Cases weren't supposed to be that personal, but Nick couldn't help it. He'd gone through hell with his own memories and fears trying to find her, and now that Cassie was alive if not well, Nick wanted to be a friendly face for her to look up to if he could. He'd confided in Warrick about it the second time he'd come back from visiting her, recounting the way he'd dreamt of a family of his own when he was younger. Warrick hadn't said much, just held him, and Nick didn't know if Warrick wanted the same thing, too. A family. A ring on his finger and a kid to raise with someone he loved. It seemed even less likely with the situation they were in, Warrick in a relationship with three different men, but if Nick had been in Warrick's place, he still wouldn't have wanted it any less. One their relationship was on more steady ground, maybe Nick would ask, see what Warrick's goals were for the future. If he liked the idea of children or if he was happy with the way his life was now. Nick would understand either way, of course. It would just be nice to know.

 

Gil was sitting diagonally to him now, next to Greg. "That's an admirable goal." The way Gil said it, Nick wasn't sure whether Gil believed he would or could go through with it. Nick knew that the chances of being able to stay in Cassie's life in the longterm were slim, but he wanted to try. Just as long as he tried... and maybe one day, he'd have a daughter of his own.

 

It was probably too late for him, though. Nick was in his mid-thirties, older than his parents had been when they'd had his first brother and first two sisters. Most men Nick's age were already settled down with their families, if that was what they had planned for the rest of their lives.

 

And Nick knew it wasn't just his age that made a family less likely. Between his relationship with Warrick and the ease with which he was kissing Greg, expecting it to go even further soon, how could he ever hope for marriage? How could he expect the government to let people like them adopt a child?

 

"I like to think it's more than a goal," Nick said firmly. It might not seem possible, but he was going to do his best to stay in Cassie's life. It wasn't likely that he'd ever have a child of his own, but he could be a father figure to Cassie. If not a father figure, at least a good male role model, something she'd lost when her father and brother had been murdered.

 

Gil didn't say anything then, just tilted his head and studied Nick's face. Nick held his gaze, unwilling to back down even to this. Gil stared at him until Warrick announced that breakfast was ready, and they all got up to get their share of chili, and Greg refreshed everyone's coffee.

 

Nick was silent during breakfast, and so was Gil, intent and meticulous in how he ate his meal. Greg and Warrick bantered back and forth about the instruments in Greg's catalog, Warrick teasing Greg that even if they did get a budget for more equipment, Hodges would be the one to enjoy it. That made Greg scowl. "A crime lab is only as good as its instruments and the people who run them," Greg retorted. "Just because Hodges can be a bitch doesn't mean he doesn't know how to run a mass spec, which, by the way, is more than you can do."

 

Warrick smirked. "At least I don't fall asleep at the microscope," he pointed out, and Nick snickered. "Or use it to look at my girlfriend's epithelials."

 

Greg sighed dramatically. "I did that once," he reminded Warrick, not seeming worried that his one-time boss was sitting next to him eating chili while he admitted to using lab equipment for personal means. "Besides, I'm not the one who used the lab to test my DNA against my potential father's."

 

"Actually, you did," Gil interjected. "You weren't testing for your father's DNA, but you knew what you were doing when you did the analysis for Catherine."

 

Greg scoffed. "Please, like I could say no to Cath." Greg raised his eyebrows at Gil. "Could you?"

 

"She's a hard woman to say no to," Gil agreed amiably, and Nick raised his eyebrows. Did they always talk about coworkers like this? Did they ever talk about him like that when he wasn't there?

 

"Mmmhm," Greg murmured appreciatively, and winked at Warrick. Warrick didn't seem to notice, but a second later, Greg jumped. "Ow! What was that for?"

 

Nick suspected that kicking had occurred under the table. "What was what for?" Warrick asked innocently, and Gil interrupted by loudly pushing his chair back from the table.

 

That seemed to be Greg and Warrick's cue to quiet down, because they went back to eating without bantering. "Anyone want seconds?" Gil offered, and Greg nodded enthusiastically, getting up to refill his bowl. Nick and Warrick followed, then returned to the table. Before he sat down again, Gil packed up the remaining chili, storing it all in the freezer while Greg cleaned up the rest of the mess.

 

It was interesting to watch. The three of them worked as a team, Warrick cooking, Greg and Gil cleaning. Nick felt a little bad for not contributing, so when they were done eating, he offered to wash their dishes. "Don't have to," Greg said, disappointing Nick. "We have a dishwasher."

 

So much for that idea. After they'd put their dishes in the dishwasher, Gil said he was heading up to bed. "Gets up early to go to work early," Greg said, rolling his eyes a little. "I better go join him if I wanna get some before he falls asleep."

 

Nick raised his eyebrows as Greg rushed off, then turned his perplexed gaze on Warrick. "They're not really gonna have sex with us here, are they?" If the answer was yes, Nick might be leaving a note thanking them for their hospitality and dragging Warrick home so he didn't have to picture that.

 

"No," Warrick chuckled, much to Nick's relief. "Greg just wants to give us some time alone. Besides - Gil doesn't even like kissing in front of anyone."

 

"Yeah," Nick agreed with a grin, remembering the reluctant kiss at the doorway. Greg was a lot more comfortable with displays of affection than Gil was, that was for sure. More comfortable than Nick and Warrick, too, probably. How had Gil ever managed having sex with Greg and Warrick at the same time? "So, where do we sleep?"

 

Warrick considered him for a moment, then smiled slightly. "Did Greg show you the downstairs?" Nick shook his head, and Warrick grinned. "I'll show you, then. I have a bed down there; it's where I usually go to be alone when I'm here," he explained, and Nick smiled. They started walking toward a door Greg had only shown him briefly, the one that led to the cellar. "Some of my music's down there, too. Greg got me a keyboard for Christmas once. Wanted to get me a piano, but I said Hell no." Warrick grinned. "I wouldn't let him buy me something that expensive."

 

"Don't blame you," Nick agreed, already wondering if this would be like the music room Warrick had in his own house. When Warrick flipped the light on, Nick could see that it was similar, but not exactly the same. The room was bigger, for one thing, and there was a bed, which Warrick's cellar didn't have. It was finished, too, with actual painted walls and carpeting. "Nice place," he said approvingly.

 

"Yeah, I like to think so." The bed was against the far wall to the left, opposite the music area on the left. Warrick stripped down to his boxers, and Nick followed suit, feeling a little weird about sleeping below ground level, even weirder about it looking like a real room.

 

It was almost too intimate getting in bed with Warrick like this, bare skin to bare skin while Greg and Gil were two floors up. Nick knew he was blushing, but Warrick didn't make fun, just held him close until he started to relax, and Nick smiled at the light pressure of Warrick's lips on his forehead. "This is nice," he commented sleepily, and let himself relax in Warrick's arms.


	12. Chapter 12  Revelations

Nick woke with Warrick's hand in his hair, gently combing through the strands that were longer now than they'd been in Nick's whole life. It had started out as neglect, Nick having been too depressed after his kidnapping to care about cutting it, but now it was like a rebellion, keeping his hair shaggy even when his parents would disapprove, Mom because it wasn't neat enough, Dad because it wasn't masculine enough. Dad's definition of masculinity didn't seem to matter much anymore, not when the whole world had seen him at his most vulnerability. If he could live through that, he could live through having shaggy hair a few inches too long.

 

"Hey," Warrick murmured, his husky voice huskier than usual, that just-waking-up voice Nick had started falling in love with over the last few weeks. "Sleep okay?" Warrick had every reason to ask that question, when Nick was sleeping in a different bed, a different house, a house where his boss and his boss's lover were sharing the same bed. Nick found that he was pretty okay with that, or at least, not awake enough to be bothered by it. The fact that they were under the ground was more discomfitting to Nick, and he was doing his level best to let that discomfort shiver at the edges of his subconscious.

 

"You know, I think I did." Nick let out a long sigh that left his whole body relaxed, stretched out, and he nuzzled into the touch of Warrick's hand, closing his eyes to better enjoy it all. Where he was, and more importantly, who he was with. "You?"

 

"Mmmm." It wasn't as much an answer as it was a satisfied moan, and Nick smiled softly, leaning forward so his lips could brush the corner of Warrick's jawbone. He didn't have to open his eyes to know where it was or how to follow it, but he opened his eyes anyway, loving the close-up texture of skin and hair on Warrick's face. "Miss you at work," Warrick commented, his hand slipping down to cup the back of Nick's neck. "How's your night?"

 

Hesitant to answer at first, Nick rubbed his face against Warrick's, trying to delay the inevitable. His night had been - great, and it was because of Greg. Once they'd gotten comfortable with each other again, it had felt like old times... and new times, too. "It was really good," he finally admitted, not able to meet Warrick's eyes. Warrick had to notice his avoidance, but there was no chastising, no accusing, just gentle fingers stroking along the back of his neck. "Greg and I talked about a lot of stuff. And we, um, kissed." Not that Warrick hadn't figured that out already, but it felt like a lie not to say anything.

 

There was a heartbeat when Nick thought Warrick had stopped stroking his neck, but then the steady rhythm of his fingers returned, if a little slower this time. "Did you like it?"

 

Nick wanted to laugh, wanted to tease Warrick about acting like they were in high school, but that was exactly what Nick felt like. Like he was in high school and talking about his first kiss, but he was really talking about his second kiss to the guy who'd been his first guy kiss and Nick was still kissing him. "Yeah," he admitted, cringing at the strain in his voice. "Does that bother you?" Opening his eyes, Nick pulled back, looking at Warrick seriously. "Because I don't have to do it anymore if it bothers you. I don't - want to hurt you."

 

Warrick hesitated before he answered, and Nick could tell that it did bother him, and Nick didn't blame him. Warrick said he hadn't settled for Greg and Gil, but there had to be a part of him that felt like he'd been waiting for Nick all along. If Nick had been out to himself and to Warrick three years ago, Warrick probably never would have gotten with Greg and Gil. "I'd be a hypocrite to ask you to stay away from Greg if I didn't plan on staying away from him and Gil, too."

 

Which meant that Warrick wasn't planning to give them up, which was... sort of... disappointing. Nick... was falling in love with Warrick, and he'd known about Greg and Gil from the beginning, but he knew how much Warrick had been in love with him and now that Warrick had him, it wasn't enough. Warrick had Nick but he still wanted Greg and Gil, too.

 

Not that Nick could blame him, really. He hadn't seen any attraction between Warrick and Gil, but Warrick's ease with Greg had been obvious, the enjoyment Warrick got from kissing Greg and bantering with him and just being in the same room with him. And, quite honestly, Nick had felt the same thing with Greg, which made him just as much of a hypocrite as Warrick.

 

Nick sighed. He hadn't expected it to be this complicated. Then again, he'd never expected that Warrick's partner was going to be someone he already knew.

 

"I'm a hypocrite too, I guess." Nick couldn't quite look into Warrick's eyes, so he stared at his throat, watched the muscles move in his neck when Warrick swallowed. "I... I have to be honest, Warrick, I think I might... like Greg. I want... to be..." Nick closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath. "I want to be what you've wanted me to be, I want... what we could've been if I'd known who I was years ago and you'd never gotten with Greg and Gil." Before Warrick could reason with him, tell him it wasn't possible, Nick forged ahead, determined to show that he wasn't completely naive. "I know we can't go back in the past, and now that we're here, I think... I think we'd both be idiots to cut Greg out of our lives."

 

Warrick didn't say anything for a long time. When Nick finally dared to look at up at him, Warrick was staring at some point past Nick's head, his lips parted as he breathed slowly. Nick impulsively wrapped his arms tightly around Warrick's waist, not wanting to lose him, not wanting to let him go. Warrick looked down at him then, his eyebrows tilted down in concentration. "And what about Gil?"

 

What about Gil. Right, because Gil was with Greg. It was kind of a package deal, and while breakfast hadn't been unpleasant, Nick hadn't sensed any attraction between them, either. "I'm still getting used to the idea," Nick said, not sure whether it was insulting or a relief that he wasn't attracted to Gil. Would it be easier for Warrick if the four of them were all attracted to each other, or would that lack of a connection make Warrick feel more secure in their relationship? "I still can't... really picture him with you two. I'm sorry."

 

Warrick shrugged, and went back to combing Nick's hair with his fingers. "I'm not really there yet either," he admitted, giving a sigh that sounded sort of frustrated. "I told you I have two lovers, but... Well, the truth is, with Gil, it's more like we're companions. I don't know how to explain it, but we get more out of talking than sex." Warrick went quiet then, his fingers working smoothly through Nick's hair, and Nick pressed his face to Warrick's throat.

 

He didn't begrudge Warrick what he had with Gil. He couldn't rightfully begrudge what Warrick and Greg had, either, not when Nick probably wanted with Greg what he had with Warrick. When Warrick went to work tonight, Greg would have another night off. What would happen then? What was Nick okay with having happen, and what would Warrick be okay with?

 

"I don't want you to give them up on my account," he said quietly, frowning to himself as he wondered whether he was being generous or just selfish. He wanted Warrick to want him to himself, but he wanted Greg to want him, too. Which meant that he didn't have the right not to want Warrick to be with Greg.

 

And really, beyond the principle of the thing, he didn't want Warrick to give up Gil and Greg. There was too much history there, too much familiarity, and Nick couldn't stand the thought of not feeling as comfortable with them as he'd felt at breakfast. He wanted that, that connection, that love the three of them seemed to share, comfortable and casual and domestic, everything a family should be. Not in the traditional meaning of a family, but when people talked about growing up and getting a family of their own, they meant finding a spouse and raising a family together. Did it really make a difference if instead of one spouse, there were three significant others, and instead of children to raise, love and nurturing to share with one another? Couldn't this be the family that Nick had always wanted, as nontraditional as it was?

 

It seemed too soon to be thinking words like 'love' and 'family', but Nick knew that he'd always been overly sentimental, in love with the idea of love and happiness. He knew he'd have to tread carefully if he didn't want to ruin these tentative beginnings at love with Warrick, friendship with Greg, and mutual respect with Gil. Those things had always been there, Nick knew; it was just that now, they were developing into something much, much deeper, and would continue to do so if he decided to stay.

 

So it seemed appropriate to say the words for the first time here, in the house of the men who'd been there for Warrick when Nick hadn't been, in the bed that was Warrick's own when he wanted to be alone. Nick looked up this time, his gaze serious and determined, and pressed a hand to Warrick's chest, looking straight into his eyes. "I love you," he stated, his fingertips curling into Warrick's chest. The moment was intense, and Nick felt strong, stronger than he'd felt since the day he'd used all his physical power and had still been unable to escape a living grave. "I love everything about you, and Greg and Gil are a part of who you are," Nick said firmly, knowing deep in his soul that he spoke the truth. If there was something Nick had learned in the last month, it was that Warrick's devotion to his other partners didn't make him love Nick any less, and that was all that mattered. The love might be different, but it was equal, and even though Nick knew there would be irrational jealousy every once in a while, that was no reason to break up a perfectly good relationship, complicated as it was. "Don't change who you are, Warrick."

 

"I won't," Warrick replied instantly, his voice so low it was almost a growl. Nick shuddered at the intensity of Warrick's gaze, but he wasn't scared when Warrick grasped his chin, pulling him in for a demanding kiss. Nick kept his eyes locked with Warrick's, giving everything Warrick demanded from him. It wasn't a kiss, it wasn't a threat; it was a fierce vow of trust and a promise of loyalty all at once. When Warrick broke the kiss, they were both panting, Warrick's fingerprints being embedded in Nick's skin. "Because," Warrick began, another bout of panting interrupting his dramatic declaration, "you're a part of who I am, too." They shared another kiss, this one hungry and needy and deep, and Warrick stopped only long enough to say, "I love you too," before he took Nick's mouth again and spread his hand over the back of Nick's head, his fingers slipping through Nick's hair as the kiss evolved from the meeting of lips to the pressing of bodies together. Nick barely even realized he was hard before he came, and Warrick wasn't far behind him, thrusting his hips into Nick's until he stopped, lips still sealed to Nick's.

 

And that was how they stayed.

 

***


	13. Chapter 12B

  
Author's notes: With each new obstacle he encounters, Nick learns more about himself and the relationship he's in.  


* * *

"Greg spoils us," Warrick chuckled against Nick's neck, and Nick grinned. He'd kind of noticed that. Mere inches from Nick, Warrick sobered, bringing his hand down from where it was braced against the wall next to Nick's neck to touch Nick's face instead. They were close, very close, because the shower wasn't all that big. It seemed to have been made with one person in mind, but they'd both squeezed in together, because Nick wasn't ready to be away from Warrick yet. It should've made him claustrophobic, but sharing the small space with Warrick was reassuring. "We had a lot of fights about it at the beginning. Thought he was tryin' to buy us, buy me. Like it'd make it okay that they were already together if he got me whatever I wanted."

 

Nick tilted his face into Warrick's touch, and nodded thoughtfully at this new information. It was kind of a relief to know that Warrick had joined their relationship with his own insecurities. "You seem okay with it now," he commented. For Nick, well, he wasn't there to judge. He wasn't going to say whether it was right or wrong that there were three of them, four of them, whatever. It wasn't his place. In their jobs, they dealt with so many things that really were wrong; murder, torture, rape, molestation. Nick had seen too much hate in his life to waste time and effort judging someone for loving too much or too many.

 

No, the issue for him was whether or not it could actually work. He'd made sure that Warrick had spent plenty of time with his other lovers because he knew that in their place, he would've been worried about Warrick leaving once he had the one person he'd wanted all those years. In all honesty, Nick's doubts poured in every time Warrick went to them, even at Nick's urging, doubts that he wouldn't live up to what Warrick had undoubtedly built him up to be. Love wasn't blind, it was a hallucinogen, it made people put the objects of their desires on a pedestal that could never be reached in real life. Warrick hadn't seemed disappointed so far, and he hadn't indicated that he was going to end it with Nick, but he was still with Greg and Gil. Heck, they were in Greg and Gil's house, showering together, talking about one of Warrick's other lovers. If it ever turned out that Nick wasn't what Warrick wanted or needed, Greg and Gil would be right there to pick up the pieces. It put a lot of pressure on Nick to be on his absolute best behavior in this relationship.

 

"Hmm. I am," Warrick murmured. Nick blinked, trying to remember what he'd asked. "Had my doubts, I can tell you that. Still do," he admitted. Nick smiled softly, and started to relax.

 

"Yeah," Nick agreed. He considered telling Warrick about his own concerns, but Warrick had enough to think about, and he wasn't being specific about his doubts. Nick would deal with his own doubts on his own, in his own time. And it was only time that would tell whether or not it worked out between them.

 

***

 

Gil was already gone by the time Nick followed Warrick upstairs for dinner. They caught Greg moping by the coffee pot, stroking a lighter that was sitting on the counter next to it. As soon as Greg saw them, he made a half-hearted attempt to smile, but Nick could tell it wasn't sincere.

 

Not sure if Greg always acted like this after Gil left for work, Nick decided to follow Warrick's lead, see how Warrick reacted before he questioned Greg. Warrick's approach was silent and gentle, a kiss to Greg's temple as he reached around to take the lighter away from Greg. Warrick murmured something in Greg's ear then, and Greg shook his head, which for some reason made Warrick hand the lighter back to Greg. In a blink, Greg was gone, the front door closing behind him.

 

Nick joined Warrick by the counter, not bothering to hide his skepticism. "Why do you encourage him like that? He's just gonna keep doing it." If they were concerned enough about Greg's health to have conditions for his breath control play, why didn't they have conditions for his smoking?

 

Warrick shrugged, not showing any reaction, but Nick felt the tension. Warrick was wearing his damn poker face again, pretending Nick hadn't said anything to upset him. "He's down to two a day. One before work, one after."

 

Nick snorted. "Two what? Packs?"

 

"No," Warrick answered, sounding patient but Nick knew he really wasn't. "Two cigarettes. It's not an easy habit to break, you know."

 

"It's an addiction," Nick argued, and he knew he'd hit a nerve there. He knew how pissed off Warrick had been when they'd brought up his gambling addiction in court, how pissed at himself Warrick had been to admit to it. But there was one important difference between Warrick's addiction and Greg's. "It'll kill 'im."

 

Warrick finally let some emotion show through the stoic mask on his face, and he stared hard at the coffee pot before looking up at Nick. "You think I don't know that?" Warrick sighed heavily, his gaze drifting to the front door as if he could see Greg through it. "Making him stop won't do any good. He has to quit for himself, otherwise he'll pick it back up later."

 

The way Warrick said that, Nick realized he'd thought about it a lot, maybe even discussed it with Gil, probably with Greg. Nick could concede to the point, but since he'd already acted like Warrick didn't have Greg's best interests at heart, Nick didn't know how to take it back. He almost said 'You would know', but that would really be the wrong thing to say. So instead, Nick turned away, and opened the refridgerator under the premise of finding something for breakfast. "Right."

 

The tension grew thicker as Nick avoided Warrick, trapped by the inability to say the right thing. He didn't know how he could make things better, but it would be too easy to make them worse. So he kept quiet and grabbed something to eat, not caring what it was.

 

When Greg re-entered, he stopped in the doorway, looking between the both of them. He seemed to sense the tension, too, because he stiffened, the look on his face hardening. Nick dropped his gaze to his dinner, waiting for someone to say something, anything. But the only thing he heard was Warrick's announcement, minutes later, that he should be getting back to work.

 

"Rick, wait," he called, ready to get up and catch Warrick before he left. So when he looked up, he was surprised to find that not only was Warrick still in the kitchen, he was standing right by Nick's chair, an amused half-smile gracing his lips. Some of the tension drained out of Nick's body, and he wondered if he'd been imagining it because Warrick was so... calm.

 

"Forget it," Warrick ordered, and leaned down to kiss him, his full lips covering Nick's. It was an apology rejected, because for some reason, Warrick didn't seem to think an apology was needed. Nothing to be forgiven, so it was forgotten. As Warrick pulled away, he cupped the side of Nick's face, thumb stroking Nick's cheekbone. "My place when I get outta work," he informed Nick, who was more than willing to comply. He agreed with a nod, flushing a bit at Warrick's knowing smile. "I'll call you when I get off."

 

There was absolutely no reason for Nick to read any innuendo into that last statement, but his ears heated up anyway. Nodding, Nick tilted his head up to accept Warrick's kiss, and smiled when Warrick pulled back. "I'll keep my cell on," he said, which really meant I love you and I'll be waiting for your call. But Nick was a man, so he didn't say that out loud. Just thought it.

 

Warrick was gone with a grin over his shoulder, leaving Nick with a Greg who looked awed instead of tense. Nick couldn't help but stare, wondering at the change in Greg's demeanor. "You okay there?" he asked, smirking a bit in amusement as Greg blinked. Clearly, Greg had been a million miles away, and he was just coming back to Nick.

 

"Oh, I'm good," he said without explanation, and went back to pouring his coffee, making a second cup for Nick. They drank in silence for a few minutes before Greg shook his head, disbelieving. "Man," he muttered, looking up at Nick, "you really bring out Warrick's dommy side." Nick, having no idea what Greg had just said, raised his eyebrows and waited. "He's so dominant with you," Greg finally clarified. Nick smirked.

 

"If you say so." He didn't know where Greg got the idea that Warrick was dominant with him. Just because Warrick had been the one to suggest his place? Nick mentally shook his head. If Warrick was dominant, that meant Nick was submissive. And Nick was not submissive. Agreeable, yes, because Warrick had made a suggestion he liked. Agreeing to something didn't mean he was submissive.

 

Greg raised his eyebrows but didn't comment for a moment, sipping calmly at his coffee before he set it down with a shrug. "You have bruises on your chin," he pointed out, and Nick blushed harder than before. Warrick had held him very firmly when they'd kissed, the way he had the time he'd told Nick that he didn't enter lightly into a relationship, that his partners were lovers, not just hookups. Before Nick could figure out how to defend himself, Greg had drained his coffee and gotten up to get another cup.

 

"What're you, addicted to caffeine too?" Nick didn't realize until he'd said it that it probably wasn't the right thing to say. Greg didn't get defensive though, just snorted.

 

"Trying to change the subject, Nicky?" Greg seemed inordinately pleased with himself when he looked at Nick again, a smugness that made Nick blush even more. It was good, though, not as insulting as it should have been, because it was a hell of a lot better than the mopey look that had been on Greg's face at the beginning of the night.

 

Greg's smirk softened into a smile as he rejoined Nick at the kitchen table. They drank in silence again, this time more comfortably, no mysterious expressions on Greg's face or tension in the room from either of them or Warrick. It was like the room had breathed a sigh of relief; Nick could feel it, could feel the difference.

 

"So, you wanna hang out tonight?" Greg asked, and Nick nodded, smiling. Yeah, he wanted to hang out, wanted to spend more time with Greg. There would be awkward moments - they'd already had plenty - but it was good to have his friend back. It was good to be a friend again.

 

"Yeah," he agreed, and took another sip of his coffee.


	14. Chapter 12C

  
Author's notes: With each new obstacle he encounters, Nick learns more about himself and the relationships he's in.  


* * *

At first, hanging out consisted of playing video games. They played competitively while maintaining companionability, neither taking their losses personally, and talked as they played. Greg laughed about how Warrick took his wins very seriously, even though those wins could only be counted on two hands and they'd both lost track of how many times Greg had won. Nick warned that he'd be bigger competition than Warrick, since he got so much practice with Archie.

 

"You like him?" Greg asked, and Nick laughed. It wasn't the first time someone had suggested that Nick had a thing for Archie or the other way around, although in the past, the thought had made Nick sick to his stomach. Not because there was anything repulsive about Archie, but because it scared him that people saw something in him that made them think he was comfortable with talking about being attracted to another guy, and that maybe people even thought he was gay. Which he was, but he'd had a hard enough time admitting it to himself. He'd hated the thought that somehow he'd revealed such a secret part of his identity.

 

"Nah, man," Nick drawled easily, leaning to the side as his body followed the motion on the screen. "He's not my type." It was the first time Nick had admitted out loud that he had a type, or a not-type, but he was learning that there was something addictive about being out to a friend. When he was alone with Warrick, and now Greg, he didn't have to censor himself, didn't have to pretend he was straight. It had been slow going at first with Warrick, but there was something about Greg's comfort with the subject that made Nick's comfort click into place, and here he could be himself, here he didn't have to pretend to be something he wasn't. Didn't have to get defensive just because Greg suggested he might like Archie, he could just be honest about the fact that he wasn't into Archie, and even though he wasn't, he was still into guys.

 

As the night wore on, Greg's good mood started to diminish. Nick noticed it in the way Greg played, in the way his concentration was focused less on the game and more on something internal that gave Greg that tired, distant look. Nick didn't say anything about it at first, not wanting to make Greg uncomfortable, but when his good mood didn't return, Nick put down his controller and turned to Greg.

 

Greg was right there with him all of a sudden, his attention back in the room, back on Nick. He was aware that Nick was looking at him, that Nick was ready to speak, and he didn't try to avoid it. "Hey."

 

"Hey," Nick said back, frowning. Maybe Greg had been waiting for him to notice. Maybe there was something Greg wanted to talk about. "You okay?"

 

Greg nodded and shifted in his seat, drawing his knees up to his chest. It was a telling position, one that Nick guessed meant Greg was feeling vulnerable and didn't want to show it. "You were fighting about me before, weren't you."

 

Nick frowned thoughtfully, trying to remember if he'd done anything that would make Greg think he was fighting about him, and his mind went back to the beginning of their evening, when Warrick had sent Greg out to smoke. So Nick shook his head and shifted to face Greg, so that all his attention was on his friend. "We were just talking," Nick fudged, knowing from the look on Greg's face that Greg didn't believe him. "We had a discussion, that's all."

 

"Bullshit." Greg sounded more unconvinced than angry, and he looked a little hurt. Like Nick had insulted his intelligence by lying. "You were fighting about me smoking."

 

He couldn't deny that. Not when Greg was right. "Look, I care about you," he explained with a shrug. "I don't wanna see you do anything that's gonna hurt you."

 

Obviously there were issues they hadn't discussed, because Greg was glaring, clearly pissed off now. "Since when?" he demanded. "You didn't come to visit me in the hospital one time after the explosion. You never even asked how I was doing. You care about me? Since when?"

 

Nick opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't have any words to say. What was he supposed to say to an accusation like that? And how was he supposed to react when Greg's change in mood was so sudden, so unexplained?

 

Greg didn't give him a chance to react. "Since you've been sleeping with Warrick? Because you never even noticed me before then, Nick. I went out of my way to flirt with you, gave you every chance to flirt back, and the only time you did was when you wanted me to do your dirty work. How'd you like to be listed as an assist in an arson case, Greg?" he spat angrily. "You knew I wouldn't say no to you. You knew and you used that to your advantage. Is that what you did with Warrick? Waited until you knew for sure he wouldn't say no before you put yourself out there? Because if you ask me, that's a pretty fucking cowardly thing to do."

 

"Whoa-" Nick started, but before he could translate his objections into words, Greg interrupted.

 

"You know what, I've tried to go along with this, because I want Warrick to be happy. Warrick, not you, because you never gave a damn how I felt. It's always you, you, you."

 

Nick had never seen Greg this angry. He'd had no idea that Greg felt that way, that Greg had even noticed how little attention Nick paid to him.

 

And unfortunately, Greg was right. Nick had taken advantage of Greg, his time and his talents, putting the victims and the cases in front of the people who actually contributed to solving the crimes. He'd been so concerned with beating Warrick - even if it was all in good fun - and not disappointing Gil that he hadn't taken Greg's feelings into consideration.

 

"I don't know what to say," he admitted, taking advantage of Greg's momentary silence. It was a good thing people needed to breathe in order to speak, and to breathe more in order to yell, or else Nick wouldn't have gotten a word in edgewise. "Except that - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have used you like that and I swear I won't ever do it again." It wasn't enough, and he knew that, knew it wasn't enough to make up for the years of ignorance on his part. "I don't know if there's anything I can do to make up for it, but if you'll let me... I want to try."

 

There was an edge of pleading in Nick's voice, one that normally would've embarassed him. But the only thing he was embarassed about was what he'd done to Greg. Nick didn't know if he'd ever really considered Greg a friend before he'd started sleeping with Warrick, or if he'd just filled in the memories of their past relationship with pretty pictures to convince himself that he'd actually respected Greg as a person. Didn't know if he'd just convinced himself they were friends because Greg was with Warrick too, and Nick wanted to avoid making any waves.

 

Across from him, Greg was shaking his head violently, no longer glaring. His eyes were closed, the loose ends of his hair brushing against his forehead, something so endearing about that that Nick just wanted to reach out and hold him. He'd wanted to from the beginning, the moment Greg had started reminding Nick of what a poor friend he'd been, but Nick didn't expect Greg to accept his touch. Why should he, when he was right about the way Nick had treated him all these years?

 

"I didn't," Greg began, and brought a shaking hand up to wipe at his eyes. Nick averted his gaze guiltily, hating that he'd made Greg cry. A man shouldn't do that to another man. It just wasn't right. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I didn't mean - to say all that."

 

Confused, Nick looked up, took in the sight of Greg hugging his knees to his chest. "But it's true," he reminded Greg, unwilling to hide from taking responsibility for his actions. "I did all that, and I shouldn't have."

 

"I know," he laughed, a little hysterically, and brought his hand up to wipe at his eyes again. "I know, but it's in the past, you know? You're a different person now. You're a... you're a really awesome person, Nick."

 

Nick blushed and hated himself for it, for enjoying Greg's flattery when he knew he didn't deserve it. "No, I'm not," he argued, nostrils flaring. "I'm judgmental and selfish and-"

 

"Caring and compassionate and smart and really, really confused about a lot of things."

 

Well, confused was right. Nick had no idea why Greg was saying such nice things about him after he'd pointed out how badly Nick had acted, as a friend and even as a coworker. Nick shook his head, refusing to take Greg's compliment at face value. "I don't get it," he said quietly. "Are you mad at me or not?"

 

Greg shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face before he replied. "I'm not mad at you. I'm - those are things I was mad about before, before I got to know you. You really are a great guy, Nick. Warrick's - Warrick's lucky to have you."

 

Nick heard the hesitation, registered it, interpreted it. "Are you upset that I'm with him instead of you?" Because even though he and Greg had kissed, that wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been with Warrick and if Warrick hadn't already been with Greg. Nick was with Warrick, and with Greg he was... he didn't know.

 

Either way, it was the wrong thing to say, because Greg's face fell. Nick fumbled to correct his mistake, clarifying, "First, I mean. That I was with Warrick first?"

 

Greg smiled sadly and sighed, leaning heavily against the back of the sofa. "You don't have to be with me just because you're with him." There was reluctance in Greg's tone if Nick had ever heard it. Greg was trying to do the right thing, not pressuring Nick to be with him, even if it meant giving up something that he obviously wanted. And the fact that Greg obviously wanted Nick was a wonderful thing.

 

"Hey," he said softly, scooting closer and waiting until Greg looked up at him. "Remember that thing I said about being selfish?" Greg shot him a look, one that demanded Nick not speak ill of himself, so Nick ignored it. "Well, I am. I want Warrick and I want you. I want both of you."

 

"Why," Greg demanded, glaring again. But Nick wasn't discouraged.

 

Because he could read Greg now. He knew what that was. That was defensiveness, that was Greg wanting to be reassured, needing to know that Nick really did want him and wasn't just saying it. "Because you're a great guy," he began, knowing better than to say it was because Greg was hot. He was, but that wasn't what Greg needed to hear. He needed to know it wasn't a shallow attraction, because there was nothing shallow about Greg's relationship with Warrick and Gil. Nick couldn't enter into this lightly, any more than Warrick had. "Because you're smart and fun and interesting and an incredible kisser." He said the last part with a grin, hoping Greg would grin back. All he got was a small smile, but it was a start. He reached out, resting his hand on Greg's hand on his leg, and Greg accepted his touch. Nick's smile softened. "All those times, I wanted to flirt back. I did. I just couldn't admit it to myself and I couldn't let it turn into anything more."

 

Greg was blushing now, a goofy smile on his face, his cheek pressed against his knee. It was a vast improvement from ten minutes ago, and Nick praised himself for being able to cheer Greg up. Sighing contentedly, Greg brought Nick's hand up to his knee so he could nuzzle it. His face was soft against the back of Nick's hand, and Nick took a shallow breath, having to resist the urge to take Greg's face in his hands and kiss him. "You did flirt back a few times, but it was like you didn't even know you were doing it. So, I decided not to corrupt you."

 

"Well," Nick said. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. If Greg had tried to corrupt him, depending on how long ago it'd been, Greg would've probably scared him back to Texas.

 

"Not that I didn't think about it," Greg continued, a wicked glint in his eyes, and Nick found himself blushing even more. It was just wrong, really, two men sitting and blushing at every other word. They should be above that. "Oh, I had some real good ideas of things to do to you..."

 

Uncomfortably turned on just by the sound of Greg's voice, Nick cleared his throat, torn between yanking his hand away from Greg and using his hand to pull Greg closer. He'd apparently gotten a lot more comfortable with his hormones, too, because he was having more and more urges like this, and he was actually admitting them to himself.

 

Greg seemed to sense his discomfort, because he gently took Nick's hand in his, and put Nick's hand back on the couch. It reminded him of what Greg had told him about sharing breath with someone while kissing, of how Greg had said both partners needed to be in tune with each other's bodies. Greg was probably good at that.

 

Nick wanted to ask if they could try it again, but the night had already been enough of an emotional rollercoaster. Especially after Greg had brought up Nick's past behavior, Nick felt bad asking for anything from him. He was just grateful that they'd been able to get it all out in the open and were still talking civilly, even flirting. And now that Nick was aware of it, he didn't know what he'd been so scared of.

 

The next few hours were spent lazily in front of the tv, until their growling stomachs drove them toward the kitchen. Not finding anything satisfactory that wouldn't require cooking, they decided instead to go out. Greg tried to treat, but Nick wouldn't let him. Instead, they split the bill, then spent the rest of the morning on the strip.

 

When Warrick called, Greg drove them back so Nick could pick up his car. As Nick buckled himself in the driver's seat, Greg knocked on the window, and Nick grinned, rolling the window down. "Yeah?"

 

"Just wanted to give you something," Greg said, and leaned in, kissing Nick in front of the whole neighborhood. Nick was too comfortable in his own skin to care. With one hand on the wheel, he used the other to frame Greg's face, pulling him close as they kissed. It was gentle and deep all at the same time, Greg's tongue stroking his lips, his teeth, even the roof of his mouth. It made Nick shiver a little, and he leaned further into the kiss, certain he'd be falling out of the car if the door hadn't been closed.

 

Greg was the one to break the kiss, and Nick had to take a moment, leaning back and panting to get his breath back. Warrick's kisses never had that effect on him, he realized a little guiltily, and remembered his date with Warrick at home.

 

"I should get going," he said reluctantly, and wondered at his own reluctance. It didn't mean he was attracted to Warrick any less... right?

 

When Greg disappeared into the house, Nick groaned, letting his head fall back against the headrest. He'd been right; his life had just entered a whole new level of complicated.

 

***


	15. Chapter 13  Whole New Level

  
Author's notes: Maybe complicated isn't such a bad thing, after all.  


* * *

Nick struggled with his conscience throughout the drive to Warrick's. It was the damnedest thing; he hadn't been so affected by any of Greg's kisses the previous night. Greg had even kissed him in front of Warrick, and Warrick knew that there had been other kisses. Warrick knew there had been other kisses, kisses that Nick had liked - not anywhere near as much as Nick liked this latest kiss - and Warrick was still with Greg and Gil, too. They all knew who was sleeping with who and kissing who and Nick had been agreeable, even encouraging, which meant that there was no reason Nick should feel like he'd cheated on Warrick.

 

But he did. He'd shared something with Greg that was more intense than he'd shared with Warrick in the whole time they'd been together. Granted, they hadn't been together that long, but he'd been naked with Warrick, they'd had orgasms together, they'd said they loved each other. How was it possible that as good as all that had felt, none of it had made him feel dazed the way Greg's kiss had?

 

What if he wasn't really in love with Warrick? What if that was what it meant? And if that was what it meant, did that mean he was in love with Greg? It couldn't. It was impossible. Nick knew what being in love was, and he was in love with Warrick.

 

He thought.

 

He sat out in Warrick's driveway for a long time before he finally went in. He didn't know what to say, didn't know if there was anything he had to confess. Technically, he hadn't done anything wrong. It wasn't what he'd done, or what Greg had done; it was how Greg made him feel.

 

He told himself that maybe it just meant Greg was a really good kisser. After all, Greg had a lot more experience than Nick and Warrick, even though he was four years younger. He had more experience and he was into all that kinky stuff and he was good at reading his partner's body. When Nick considered all those facts, he pondered the possibility that maybe Greg was just a better kisser than he and Warrick put together.

 

It eased Nick's conscience to believe that, so he did his best to convince himself of it. His response to Greg's kiss was a response to talent and skill. It didn't have anything to do with feelings or being less attracted to Warrick and it wasn't cheating.

 

Even though it still felt like it.

 

Warrick greeted him happily at the door, brushing a gentle kiss over Nick's lips. Nick sighed and hid his face against Warrick's neck, his arms sliding around Warrick's waist. Whatever doubts he might have had melted away when Warrick held him close, kissed the top of his head, and swayed gently with him, not questioning, not accusing, just holding him. No matter what had caused his reaction to Greg's kiss, being in Warrick's arms still felt like coming home, still felt so right he never wanted to leave. There was passion and then there was comfort, this feeling of safety and belonging Warrick instilled in him.

 

"Hungry?" Warrick asked when Nick finally let him go, and Nick nodded. He took Warrick's hand and let Warrick lead him into the kitchen, feeling... needy, dependent. After everything that had happened tonight, he needed reassurance, and he knew Warrick would be the one to give it to him. Warrick had always been there for him, even if Nick hadn't known it until now. Warrick would give him the reassurance he needed, even if Nick really should have been reassuring Warrick that he wasn't going anywhere no matter how much he'd liked Greg's kiss.

 

It was a foolish thought, because where would he go? Greg was with Warrick, too. He couldn't leave Warrick for Greg if he tried, if he wanted to - and he didn't want to. But it was foolish to think that he could be with Greg and not Warrick, because Warrick would always be there, with Greg.

 

Nick watched Warrick move through the kitchen, making a quick breakfast for them without asking what Nick wanted. Probably because he knew Nick would like whatever he made, which was all the more reason for Nick's doubts to fall away. He and Warrick knew each other so well, and Warrick was so good at taking care of him. It was no surprise, then, that Greg and Gil had wanted Warrick to join them. Nick was just lucky that there weren't even more men knocking down the door to be with Warrick.

 

He would never understand how Warrick could have wanted him for so long and not said anything. They'd done so much together, even practically lived together, and Nick had been too dense to catch on. It had to've been hard for Warrick when they'd gone to Seattle for the conference, sharing a hotel room, Nick hanging over Warrick's shoulder. Nick had wanted to get closer, and he knew now that Warrick had, too.

 

Warrick set their breakfast on the table, then turned back to get coffee. Warrick was wearing dark blue jeans, probably hadn't changed them since work, which was pretty damn scandalous given how tight they were, defining the muscles in his thighs, framing his ass. Nick grinned; as long as he was ogling Warrick's ass, there was hope for them yet.

 

"What's so funny?" Warrick was doing a pretty poor imitation of being demanding, and Nick grinned wider, waiting for Warrick to get close enough for Nick to get a handful of ass. Warrick looked surprised, but not offended. Nick was a little surprised at himself, too; as often as he'd wanted to do that - and sometimes had done that - to a woman he'd been sleeping with, he'd never been able to do it without fear of reproach. Sleeping with a man was different than sleeping with a woman. Nick could act on his urges and not have to worry about offending.

 

"You wear those pants to work?" he asked, smirking. Warrick smirked back and swayed closer, pressing a hip to Nick's shoulder. Nick couldn't help glancing down at Warrick's crotch, licking his lips at how close Warrick was. They hadn't gotten to oral sex yet, but Nick knew it was coming. He was looking forward to it, too.

 

"Why, jealous?" Warrick's teasing voice brought Nick's eyes back up to his face, and Nick laughed, slipping an arm around Warrick's waist. Smiling, Warrick reached back for a chair, and pulled Nick's hand into his lap as he sat down.

 

"Hey, if you wanna show your ass off to perverts, that's your business."

 

Warrick chuckled but didn't respond, using his free hand to dig into his breakfast. Nick followed suit, his gaze flickering over to Warrick every minute or so. He knew he'd been acting weird since he'd walked in the door, and Warrick had taken it all in stride. At least, he did until they were finished eating, and then he pulled his chair around to face Nick, a serious expression wrinkling his forehead. "What's up with you today?" he asked quietly, sincerely patient.

 

So, there it was. The moment of truth. Nick shook his head, looking down at Warrick's hand in his. "Long night," he admitted, not sure where to start. He didn't want to start with the kiss, and probably shouldn't. The fact that he wanted to avoid talking about it was very telling, and brought back a reminder of his guilt. "Greg and I kinda had a fight, but we talked through it. And then, he kissed me goodbye." Might as well get it over with. He wasn't going to hide it from Warrick. That would make it feel way too much like cheating. If he couldn't be honest about it, he shouldn't do it.

 

Firm fingers on his jaw urged his face up, and Nick took in Warrick's expression, open for once. Nick didn't know if he liked what he saw there, but he wasn't really sure what he was seeing, either. "We're going to talk about the fight, but first I gotta tell you, Nick, you don't have to tell me every time Greg kisses you."

 

Nick was tempted to duck his head again, but he couldn't do so without dislodging Warrick's hand. He swallowed hard. "It was different this time," he admitted. There. He'd said it.

 

"Different how?"

 

There was no accusation in Warrick's voice, no jealousy. Just curiosity. Nick didn't know how he did it. "I don't know, it was like... it was really good," he said softly. It didn't mean Warrick's kisses weren't good, but he didn't know how to say that. "Kinda blew me away."

 

"Mmhm," Warrick murmured. The noncommital noise would've reminded Nick of his therapist if it hadn't been for the calculation in Warrick's eyes. It made Nick's heart skip a beat the moment before Warrick leaned in, and in that instant, Nick knew exactly what Warrick was doing.

 

Warrick was kissing him.

 

It wasn't like the other kisses. There'd been kisses standing up, in the bathroom, in the shower, sitting on the sofa in front of the tv, lying down in bed. There'd been fully clothed kisses and half-naked kisses and completely naked kisses, and not one of them had been like this. Warrick was kissing him at the kitchen table, cupping his jaw, his breath ghosting over Nick's lips, followed immediately by Warrick's lips opening over Nick's. Warrick's face was angled so that his lips only partially overlapped Nick's mouth, Nick's lips parting even before Warrick's tongue came out to tease him.

 

Nick sighed into Warrick's mouth, and brought his hands up to hold Warrick's head. Warrick's hair was too thick for Nick to just let his fingers slip through, but once his fingers were there, he could get a hell of a grip. It was something Nick had thought about, imagined gripping Warrick's head while Warrick went down on him. It was only a matter of time before that happened.

 

Warrick's kiss was blowing him away as much as Greg's kiss had, if not more. Damn. Which meant that Nick had absolutely nothing to feel bad about. Warrick might have gotten kissing lessons from Greg, but he'd added his own touch to the technique. His tongue traced Nick's lips so lightly at first that Nick held his breath, not wanting to miss a single electrifying touch, and when Warrick's tongue pushed inside his mouth, Nick exhaled loudly, his eyes dropping closed. Warrick sure knew how to fill a guy's mouth with his tongue, even as he stroked Nick's tongue with his, teased the roof of Nick's mouth by rubbing with his tongue. It made Nick shiver again and it occurred to him that that was the strangest erogenous zone he'd ever heard of, but Greg and Warrick were both finding his weak spots.

 

Warrick was good at reading his partner, too, because he responded to each of Nick's reactions. When Nick's eyes closed, he'd dragged his lips along Nick's, repeating the motion when Nick leaned forward and moaned. The first time his tongue touched the roof of Nick's mouth, Nick shuddered and tightened his grip in Warrick's hair, and he felt Warrick smile against his lips, before the smile disappeared and Warrick's lips sealed against his, that talented tongue continuing its ministrations. Yeah, Nick was blown away, and it was all because of Warrick.

 

Warrick's free hand settled on his knee and Nick opened his eyes, staring into Warrick's blown pupils. He wondered if Warrick was planning to stroke him off right here in the kitchen or if the kiss was over, or if Warrick was going to drag him into the bedroom like Nick had a mind to do if Warrick didn't start kissing him again right this instant.

 

"Damn," he panted, his fingers tightening and loosening in Warrick's hair. "You been holdin' out on me, man."

 

Warrick chuckled, that smile Nick loved twitching his lips. Nick had to lean in and kiss him again, interrupting Warrick's pending answer, and Warrick laughed, but allowed it, sliding both his hands into Nick's shaggy hair. This time the kiss ended gradually instead of suddenly, Warrick leaning forward to rest his forehead against Nick's. "Didn't know you could handle it," Warrick retorted, grinning. Nick grinned back. "Ready to take it up to the next level?"

 

As if Warrick even had to ask. "Hell yeah," he answered immediately. He felt like he'd been ready forever.


	16. Chapter 13B

They started kissing and didn't stop again until they reached the bedroom, stumbling into each other when their progress was stopped by the bed at the back of Warrick's knees. Nick took advantage of the opportunity to unbutton Warrick's shirt - or, as it turned out, to finish unbuttoning Warrick's shirt, since it was already indecently unbuttoned.

 

"You know," he murmured, tugging Warrick's shirttails out of his jeans, "I don't think this is appropriate work attire."

 

Warrick smirked. "Good thing we're not at work, then."

 

Nick would have to agree. They couldn't make out, or potentially have sex, at work. Grinning, he helped Warrick get out of his shirt, and then his gaze dove south as Warrick turned around to get lube and condoms from the top drawer of the nightstand. That didn't necessarily mean anything; they hadn't had the safe sex talk and they usually used lube for handjobs. Only the fact that Warrick had asked if he was ready to take it to the next level suggested that something new would happen.

 

Sidling closer to Warrick, Nick cupped Warrick's ass with both hands, dropping a kiss on the back of Warrick's neck. Warrick twisted his head around to grin at Nick, pressing back against Nick's hands. "You really like those pants, huh."

 

"Hm." Nick grinned, leaning up and forward to catch Warrick's mouth in a kiss, not one of those kisses that blew him away but it was pretty powerful all the same. "Think I like the ass in 'em better."

 

Warrick laughed, low and throaty, and dumped everything on the bed so he could turn around and slide his hands under Nick's shirt. "What happened to my straight boy?" he asked, scratching down Nick's stomach and then reaching up to comb his fingers through Nick's hair. Nick's smile was wide and he leaned into Warrick's touch, just enjoying the contact. "Blushed every time someone mentioned sex?"

 

Nick shrugged, too busy exploring Warrick's upper body with his hands, ghosting his fingers over spots he knew made Warrick shiver, and finding new spots as he went. He didn't have to answer because Warrick's words alone were making him blush.

 

"Ahhh." Warrick sounded so pleased with himself that Nick blushed even more. He lifted his arms so Warrick could take off his shirt, revealing the flush that spread across Nick's chest. Then Warrick tumbled him to the bed, and rolled on top of him.

 

Nick froze.

 

"Nick?"

 

Nick was still frozen, but Warrick's voice brought him back to the present, back from wherever he'd just gone. It would help if he had some idea what had just happened, but he couldn't remember anything except for how he felt. And that was cold.

 

"You okay?"

 

Nick blinked up at Warrick, aware of warm fingers against his forehead, pushing his hair back. Nick nodded, but didn't speak, because he didn't know what to say. He would apologize, if only he knew what he was apologizing for.

 

"I'm fine," he finally said, as much to convince himself as Warrick. At the moment, he really wanted to hide, but he knew from the month he'd gone without talking to Greg that the longer he put it off, the more awkward it would be when he finally did speak up. So he pushed his insecurity out of the way and started kissing Warrick, persisting even when Warrick didn't kiss back.

 

"Nick," he protested, but Nick ignored him, kissing harder, trying to get Warrick to respond with something other than concern. He didn't want to draw attention to what had happened, and he didn't want to be the one responsible for stopping this when they were finally taking the next step.

 

"I thought we were going to the next level," he breathed, grinning, and started kissing down Warrick's chest. He liked Warrick's chest, it was hard and masculine, like everything else about him. Nick avoided Warrick's fingers and reached down to unzip his pants, feeling Warrick buck up against him despite the fact that Warrick was trying to get him to stop. But Warrick wasn't asking him to stop because he didn't want Nick to do it; he was just trying to make him stop because he thought Nick wasn't fine. "I'm fine."

 

Warrick obviously didn't believe him, so Nick would just have to convince him. He yanked Warrick's pants down, boxers and all, frowning when he saw that Warrick was only half hard.

 

He'd just have to fix that, wouldn't he?

 

"Nick, wait," Warrick said again, unconvincing to Nick's ears. Nick ignored him, wrapping his hand around the base of Warrick's cock, and grinned at the hiss that elicited. Certain that Warrick wanted this even though he was arguing, Nick opened his mouth and took Warrick's cock in his mouth. Not exactly how he pictured doing it for the first time, but if this wouldn't convince Warrick, nothing would. At the very least, it would distract him, because he wouldn't last long. Nick never had when girls had gone down on him.

 

"Nick," Warrick repeated, but his hands in Nick's hair didn't do much to convince Nick that he was really saying no. It was just his imagination that Warrick was trying to pull him up, not down. Nick closed his eyes, trying to savor his first taste of cock, but Warrick was still tugging on his hair, and not in an encouraging way. "I'm saying no, Nick. I'd use a safe word, but we don't have one, remember?"

 

That stopped Nick cold. For when no doesn't really mean no, Nick remembered, and why would he think that Warrick's no didn't really mean no? Just because he wouldn't turn down a blowjob didn't mean Warrick wouldn't.

 

Nick was really starting to hate himself. If he hadn't frozen up when Warrick had rolled on top of him, this wouldn't be happening. "I'm sorry," he whispered, fumbling to pull Warrick's jeans up from his knees, realizing belatedly that Warrick was trying to pull him up, apparently not concerned with the fact that he was hanging out in the open. Warrick kicked his pants the rest of the way off and then reached for the covers, pulling them up and over the both of them, securing Nick against his chest with a firm arm around his lower back.

 

"It's okay," Warrick soothed him, stroking his back, his hair. Nick didn't know what to make of this attention, of the way Warrick was trying to gentle him like some kind of spooked animal. Nick was the one who should be apologizing, for making Warrick bring up safe words.

 

"No it's not," he insisted, refusing to look Warrick in the eyes. "I practically - I - I-"

 

"No, you didn't," Warrick said firmly, and pressed a kiss to his forehead, making Nick feel even more ashamed. After the way he'd acted, he didn't deserve to have Warrick treat him this way. "Don't even think it, Nick. You stopped. That's the important thing." When Nick didn't answer, Warrick persisted. "What happened there?"

 

Nick knew Warrick was talking about his freeze-up, not what had happened after. They both knew he'd done what he'd done to try to avoid talking about it, to distract Warrick with sex. But Warrick just cared about him too damn much to let him do that.

 

"I don't know," he admitted, finally screwing up the courage to look into Warrick's face. "Everything was fine and then I just... froze up. I don't know why, it was just like... everything went blank and then there I was, and there you were." Nick let his voice trail off, because he was starting to realize what might have happened, and he didn't think about it.

 

Warrick seemed to realize it too. "Nicky," he said softly, using the nickname Greg had used the other night, "if there's anything that makes you uncomfortable, you know you can always talk to me about it, right?"

 

Nick nodded. He knew that, even though it had never been said directly. It was a given that they could talk to each other about anything, and they had talked about almost everything. There were just some things Nick hadn't thought would be an issue. "I didn't know it would make me uncomfortable. No one's done that since... since..."

 

Nick had only ever told one other person about it, and that was because he'd had to tell Cath to get her off his back about a case. Warrick was quiet, not pressuring him, not asking for anything. He just lay there and held Nick, making him feel safe, loved, cared about. In the end, that was what gave Nick the courage to give his confession, even with moisture stinging the corners of his eyes.

 

"I was nine," he began, and started to tell Warrick everything.


	17. Chapter 13C

  
Author's notes: Maybe complicated isn't such a bad thing, after all.  


* * *

Nick looked up at Warrick, trying to reconcile his current feelings with the shock that'd made him freeze up a week ago, before Warrick had confronted him about the way he was acting. Nick had tried to distract him with a blowjob, and Warrick had gotten his attention by turning down sex; for the first time, Nick's partner was more concerned with his emotional state than what they could get from him, and that made all the difference.

 

I don't have to do it anymore if you don't want me to, Warrick had offered, but Nick had shaken his head firmly. She's controlled my sex life for too long, he'd said, touched by Warrick's offer even though he knew it wouldn't change anything for the better. Warrick had rolled on top of him instinctively, reacting automatically to his immediate desires, and if they had to avoid it, they'd be thinking about avoiding it, and he'd still be thinking about her, and she didn't deserve a place in his thoughts or in his bedroom.

 

What she'd done had affected him for too long, affected his behavior at school, with his few friends, with the teachers who hadn't understood why he was so difficult. It had been a defense mechanism, just like his bullying and the way he'd always topped the women he'd been. Nick knew that now, knew that being the one doing the penetrating didn't necessarily mean he was the top. He certainly hadn't been when his babysitter had raped him, proving once and for all that it was possible for a female to rape a male, because a nine-year-old boy was no match for a woman who'd been in her twenties or thirties. Nick didn't know how old she'd been, and he didn't want to know. The only thing he needed to know about it was that he hadn't done anything wrong, and he didn't have to keep trying to dominate his partners just to prove to himself that he wasn't weak.

 

I'm not going to let her make me miss out on this, too, he'd told Warrick. So now, Warrick was sitting on his stomach, both of them fully dressed, starting the process of re-associating the position with a good memory instead of a bad one. "I didn't think it would be this easy," he commented, smiling as he twined his fingers with Warrick's.

 

"You knew it was coming this time," Warrick pointed out. "You had time to prepare for it."

 

"Yeah," Nick agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "You're right." This was just the first of many, many steps, baby steps, but at least it was a start. There would be times when he wouldn't be able to prepare for what was coming, and eventually, he wanted to be able to enjoy it when it happened. If I freeze up, just give me a minute and then we'll keep going, he'd instructed Warrick. If I let it stop me every time, she'll still be in control.

 

Control, Nick was learning, was something that had always been important to him, although it had affected him negatively in the past. She'd controlled his sex life, the memory of what she'd done controlling how dominant Nick tried to be with the women he slept with, and Nick had kept everything inside to the point that when his frustrations came out, he lost control almost completely. It explained his reaction to the suspect he'd assaulted trying to find out where Cassie was, explained why he was so determined to find her, even at the risk of his job. He hadn't been thinking about that at the time; he'd just been thinking about saving her, just like he'd been saved so many times - only not the first time, when he'd needed it the most. He'd lost control with the suspect and because of that, he hadn't been working for the last eleven nights. Only three more nights to go, and he'd be back at work, hopefully with a steadier head on his shoulders.

 

He'd learned a different kind of control this week. It was the kind of control that came with admitting to the past and starting to let it go, relinquishing the control with which he'd held so tightly to his emotions over the years. He cried, and Warrick didn't judge him, didn't laugh at him, didn't think he was weak; Warrick just held him, and told him it was okay.

 

It's okay, Warrick had whispered more than once, his tenderness bringing on a fresh flood of tears. It's okay, you're a good boy. That was something else he was trying to re-associate; she'd called him a good boy when she'd been doing it, and after, and Warrick had wondered if part of what had set Nick off had been when he'd called Nick 'his straight boy'. It was the possessive pronoun and the 'boy' part that concerned him, and Nick had considered that, the possibility that Warrick's words had been the start of his unease. But that's just you talking, Nick had said, remembering how a part of him had liked it, liked how he was Warrick's in a way, Warrick's 'boy'. Like a boyfriend, but a more intimate version, because they were far more than friends. Warrick was still getting used to calling Nick a good boy, but he kept it up because Nick was responding to it well. I don't want you to stop talking like that.

 

"I usually am," Warrick agreed smugly, and Nick grinned. Yeah; it was true. Warrick was usually right.


	18. Chapter 13D

  
Author's notes: Maybe complicated isn't such a bad thing, after all.  


* * *

The unfortunate thing about a comfortable couch was that it was more suited to cuddling and quiet than to having a serious conversation. A serious conversation was the reason Nick was here with Warrick, though, and it wasn't something they could put off.

 

Greg sat next to Gil on the smaller sofa, his head on Gil's chest, Gil's arm around his shoulders. It was a domestic scene, one Nick never would've expected to see his boss in, but one look at how comfortable Greg was suggested that this wasn't as rare as Nick would've thought.

 

"There's something I have to tell you because it affects all of us," Nick began, holding onto Warrick's hand for support. "I know we haven't talked about what my role's going to be in this relationship, but there's going to be one. A relationship, I mean." He'd talked about it with Warrick when they'd made the decision, together, to tell Greg and Gil about what had happened with the babysitter. Nick fully expected to eventually have a relationship with Greg like he had with Warrick, a combination of friendship and trust and romance and sex, and while he didn't expect all of that with Gil, he did want to cultivate a relationship based on mutual trust and respect with the older man. As to whether sex would ever enter into it, he didn't know, but there was more to a relationship than sex. Nick had confided with Warrick that he wanted to play it by ear, and Warrick had agreed that that would be the best thing. "I want to have a relationship with both of you, too, and if that's going to happen, there are some things you should know."

 

Greg and Gil listened to his story attentively and solemnly, revealing their reactions in different ways. Gil remained stoic, but there was a coldness to the look in his eyes, and Nick could only imagine that he was angry at Nick's molester. They didn't have a very close personal relationship - though Nick hoped that would change - but even if he didn't show it, Gil's emotions couldn't be unaffected by what Nick was sharing.

 

Greg's reaction was very different - he had the same anger in his eyes, but he left Gil's side to curl up next to Nick in the corner of the couch, offering comfort with his physical presence. Nick accepted it gratefully, turning his face into Greg's hair when the memories got to be too much, and sighed at Warrick's continued attempts to soothe him with a gentle touch. Warrick was good at that, keeping him calm, and Greg being there didn't change that at all.

 

Nick risked a glance at Gil, uncertain what to do about Gil's separation from the rest of their small group. He knew Gil was uncomfortable with displays of affection, but this didn't have anything to do with sex. Nick just wanted Gil's friendship and support, wanted to know that Gil was there for him as much as Warrick and Greg were. Not that he'd done this for attention, but he would've thought that Gil would at least acknowledge what he'd gone through.

 

Deciding on a direct approach, Nick eased himself from Warrick and Greg's embrace, kissing each of them before he went to sit next to Gil. It was the first time he'd sat so close to his boss - who was really only his boss in appearance, since Cath was officially his boss now - and it felt a little weird. With Warrick and Greg, he felt like an equal, like he was with his peers.

 

Gil was... Gil was older and wiser and had played the role of mentor with Nick for years. Despite their differences of opinion on how personally involved an investigator should get with a case, there were still many things about Gil that Nick admired, things about Gil that made Nick want to aspire to be a man like him. He could never be as distant as Gil, but the man was brilliant. He knew so much he'd probably forgotten more than Nick would ever learn.

 

In the past he'd wanted approval or constructive criticism from Gil; the only thing he wanted now was for Gil to understand. "You're a part of this," he said quietly, using a tone he'd never used with Gil. "You're as much a part of this as Greg and Warrick are. I... I want you to be a part of this."

 

He'd never seen Gil look so lost. Gil's eyes flickered over Nick's face, as if he was trying to catalog what he saw there, categorize it somehow so he'd know how to respond. Nick wasn't sure what he wanted from Gil, whether he wanted words or a hug, just that he wanted something. And Gil was just looking at him like he was a piece of a puzzle that didn't have any edges, and he didn't quite know where to put it.

 

Was it really that hard for him to relate to other people? Was Gil really as lost as he looked? In case he was, Nick took the next step, shifting so he was sitting facing the same way Gil was, and leaned in to rest his head on Gil's shoulder. It wasn't much, but it was a start, and eventually, Gil lifted his arm to put it around Nick's shoulders.

 

Satisfied that he'd gotten a response, Nick smiled over at Warrick and Greg, and reached out a hand to them. Greg took his hand and joined them, sitting at Gil's other side so Warrick could sit next to Nick.

 

On the smaller couch, it was a bit cramped, but Nick found he didn't care. They were finally together, all of them, and it was just the way it should be.


	19. Chapter 14

Nick laughed against Warrick's throat. He couldn't believe they were doing this again, getting caught up in the moment in this unfamiliar bed. He knew intimately the quizzical look on Warrick's face without even seeing it; to spare Warrick from more confusion, Nick grinned up at his lover and explained. "I feel like we're making out in my parents' house."

 

Warrick snorted. "Don't tell Gil that." Warrick pushed up onto an elbow, looking down at Nick. "You know he's only fifteen years older than you, right?"

 

Only fifteen years older. Like it was a drop of water in a lake. "Technically-" Nick began, only to be interrupted by Warrick.

 

"Technically, it doesn't matter, because Gil'll be at work already."

 

"Really?" Nick frowned and rolled over to look at the clock. "But it's only-"

 

"Told you," Warrick said, "he goes to work early."

 

"Hm." Warrick was right about one thing; it didn't matter, because Gil wasn't his father, even if it felt like it sometimes. Especially when he remembered with crystal clarity how Gil had called him Pancho, the old nickname shoving him back to his childhood and bringing him back to the present just as quickly, because the present was hard to escape when it was your own coffin. That was probably the biggest mental obstacle when Nick tried to understand the attraction to Gil, because while he knew Gil wasn't an unattractive man, he hadn't been able to look at him as anything other than an authority figure.

 

But there were more pressing things to think about. Specifically, Warrick, who'd taken advantage of Nick's change in position to plaster himself against Nick's back. Not that Nick was complaining. He could never complain about anything that had to do with Warrick or Warrick's body. "Should I have seen that coming?"

 

"I dunno," Warrick murmured, sliding an arm over Nick's waist to press a hand to his stomach. "You can be pretty thick sometimes."

 

"Hey," Nick protested unconvincingly, grinning and arching his head back as Warrick's fingers tangled in his hair. It was amazing the things he was comfortable with, when something as simple as being on his back could freak him out. "Thick can be a good thing sometimes, you know," he pointed out, blushing at his own innuendo. Behind him, Warrick chuckled, shifting closer, his bare chest pressing against Nick's bare back, half-hard cock against Nick's ass cheek with only two layers of cotton between them.

 

"My boy's learnin' to talk the talk," Warrick praised, "but can he walk the walk?"

 

Nick was up for the challenge. "You tell me." He rolled over and on top of Warrick, pinning him to the bed. It wasn't a show of dominance, just playful competition, the way sex between them sometimes was.

 

They battled for control of the kiss with strategic nips on the lips and tongues between teeth, each trying to make the other breathless. It was inevitable that Warrick tried to turn it around on him, and rolled Nick onto his back, pausing as they looked into each others' eyes. "You good?" Warrick asked, and Nick nodded, panting. Maybe it was that he'd seen it coming, but he was pretty okay with this, with Warrick lying on top of him. It felt pretty good, actually.

 

"I'm good," he breathed, straining up to capture Warrick's mouth in a kiss. Warrick met him halfway, and the battle began again, this time with the added bonus of Warrick's hips thrusting to meet his. It was over not long after it started, and as Nick came down from the high, he couldn't help but grin. "So," he said. "Can I walk the walk?"

 

"You can definitely walk the walk," Warrick grinned between breaths. Nick felt boneless, relaxed, comfortable, so it was disappointing when Warrick pushed up and away from him. "Much as I'd love to lay around, some of us have to get ready for work," he reminded Nick. It wasn't a jab at why Nick couldn't go to work, just a roundabout apology for Warrick not being able to stay.

 

"I'll help," Nick offered, because as nice as it would be to spend the evening laying around, he'd rather make the most of his time with Warrick before Warrick had to go to work. They could've stayed in bed if Warrick just wanted to shower alone before work, but showers together took longer and besides, a man had to eat. "Only two more nights," he pointed out with a grin. Warrick grinned back.

 

"And then it's back to the grindstone."

 

That was fine with Nick. He didn't know how things would be different when he went back to work, whether he'd have a different dynamic with Gil since they knew about each other, different interactions with Greg since they'd kissed and argued and kissed, but Nick had a feeling it was all going to work out. He had confidence to spare, and it was all thanks to Warrick.


	20. Chapter 14B

Upstairs, the kitchen was rich with the aroma of breakfast in the making. Nick knew that Greg wasn't a fan of cooking any more than he was; if it could be popped in the toaster or in the microwave, it was fine. But there Greg was, banging his head to some outrageously loud music like he used to blast in the lab, and mixing pancake batter.

 

Nick exchanged a look with Warrick. "Did we just walk into the twilight zone? Because I think I see Greg cooking."

 

Warrick studied the scene in front of them, obviously as baffled as Nick was. It wasn't just that Greg was cooking, it was the music that hadn't made an appearance in the last couple of years. It was like stepping into the past. And adding a chef to the mix. It was weird. "I think someone got lucky today," Warrick concluded, and Nick frowned.

 

"Gil knew we were spending the day, right?" Nick had stopped thinking of Gil as asexual, since he obviously wasn't. The surprise was no longer that he and Greg had had sex, it was that he and Greg had had sex with Nick and Warrick in the house. If Nick had known Greg and Gil were having sex... well, he didn't know if it would have bothered him as much as it had the first time. There was a whole floor between them, after all, so it wasn't like they would've heard or walked in on each other. Nick still couldn't picture it, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen.

 

"I thought so." Warrick cocked his head toward Greg, who was completely oblivious to their conversation. "Yeah, Greg said he'd see us tonight before they went upstairs."

 

"Huh." Nick walked right up next to Greg at the counter, and for the first time, Greg noticed him. "Guess they forgot we were here."

 

Greg did the old duck-and-blush then, and tried to avoid the subject. "You know how to scramble eggs, right?"

 

Nick grinned, not moving from where he was standing. "Trying to change the subject, Greg?" he teased, and succeeded in making Greg blush again. This was just too easy. So rather than torture Greg, Nick went about finding the eggs and milk and everything else he needed to make scrambled eggs.

 

Warrick helped them finish dinner, which today was more of a traditional breakfast complete with pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Maybe sex did that to Greg, put him in the mood for breakfast when he woke up. It didn't bother Nick; he'd been working the graveyard shift for so many years that breakfast, lunch, and dinner had become interchangeable.

 

Their evening progressed with playful ribbing from both of them; that was, until Greg joined in and asked about all the noise he'd heard downstairs. They all knew Greg couldn't have heard anything between his music and the soundproofed walls, but it was a reminder that Nick and Warrick had had their own fun in Warrick's room. Then it was a freeforall that almost evolved into a food fight; almost, except that Greg and Warrick realized they had to leave for work.

 

"Don't worry, I'll clean up," Nick offered, forgetting for the moment that it wasn't his home, too. He'd never been in the house without Greg being there, which made sense because Greg was part owner of the house. He and Warrick didn't live there, so they only stayed when Greg was there, too.

 

It would have felt more appropriate to say that they only stayed when both Greg and Gil were there, but Gil got there so late and left so early that they rarely saw him outside of work. Gil was only there at a reasonable time that morning because Warrick had called ahead, saying they needed to have a family meeting. Despite the seriousness of what they'd had to talk about, it had made Nick giddy to hear Warrick say that, to call them a family, even if it didn't include him yet.

 

Eventually, he hoped to consider himself an equal part of their family. Sure, Warrick and Greg made him feel welcome, and Gil hadn't made him feel unwelcome, but he still felt like he was on the outside looking in, observing a comraderie that had been established long before he'd joined the picture.

 

There would be time for that, though. His feeling of belonging had increased tenfold in the last two weeks, and he was getting more comfortable with them every day. It might take more time for him to get to know Gil, but at least Gil had been there. It was a start.


	21. Chapter 15  (The Space Between) The Tears We Cry

  
Author's notes: A piece of the puzzle is missing.  


* * *

Something was wrong. Nick's body was in that comfortable heavy sleep-state, so he'd been asleep for a while and there was still some time before he and Warrick had to get up. That was what was wrong, though; Warrick was gone, and he'd been gone longer than it would've taken to go to the bathroom. In fact, no sound had come from the bathroom. Nick wasn't sure how he knew that, but he did.

 

Warrick's clothes were still on the floor by the bed, and none of the lights were on, which meant that he couldn't have gone far. They'd been sleeping together for long enough that Nick didn't have to worry about Warrick walking out on him in the middle of the day; besides, it was Warrick's house. That wouldn't have made any sense.

 

It was natural at a time like this to think that maybe something had happened to Warrick, but Nick refused to let himself consider it. Warrick was fine. He had to be. He just wasn't in bed for some reason, and he hadn't told Nick why.

 

Maybe he was downstairs in his music room. Warrick hadn't gotten up in the middle of the day to play since Nick had started sleeping with him, but Nick remembered him doing that when he'd stayed before, years ago. Planning to assuage his curiosity - not his fears, there was nothing to be afraid of - Nick slipped out of bed and pulled on a bathrobe, the air conditioning too high to walk around in just his shorts.

 

He heard the low rumble of Warrick's voice before he got as far as the kitchen. It sounded like Warrick was in the living room, and from the sounds of it, he was talking on the phone. Either that, or he was talking to himself, and he'd never heard Warrick talk to himself.

 

"Maybe he's still at work," Warrick was saying. Nick walked around the couch so Warrick would know he was there, taking in the concerned look on Warrick's face. "Oh." What is it? he mouthed. Warrick held up a finger, shushing him. Nick kept quiet. "Do you want us to come over?"

 

Nick could hear a muffled voice coming from the phone, though he couldn't make out the words. The voice was familiar, but he wasn't sure who it was. He waited until Warrick hung up to ask, "Where are we going?"

 

Warrick rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He looked exhausted. Nick didn't blame him; it was barely five. "That was Greg," he said. "Gil didn't come home from work today."

 

***

 

They took Warrick's car to Greg's, since Nick's was at his own house, where it had been sitting for the last week. The plan was for Nick to start driving it again when he went back to work, and since he hadn't done the driving lately, Warrick let him drive.

 

It helped keep his mind off things. He didn't know which possibility was worse; that Gil was gone because something terrible had happened, or if he'd left of his own accord. If Gil had been hurt, if anything happened to him, they had to find him. But if he'd decided to leave, that meant he'd abandoned Greg, and that wasn't right.

 

Nick didn't like either option. He was all too familiar with how terrifying it was to be kidnapped; he also knew that if Gil had left, it was probably because of him. Because he'd gotten too comfortable, spent too much time with Warrick and Greg, and Gil was running away again, like he had when Warrick had started taking care of Greg after the explosion. If Gil had left, it was Nick's fault for not realizing the effect he was having on their family.

 

Nick didn't want it to be his fault.

 

He didn't want Gil to be hurt, either.

 

***

 

Whatever had happened, Greg wasn't going to come out of this unscathed. He was pacing the room, panicky, and he kept rubbing his face with his hands. Warrick got to him first just because he'd gotten in the door first, and took Greg's shoulders in his hands, trying to hold him still. "Let's just sit down for a minute," he suggested. "We'll figure this out."

 

"I can't," Greg said hoarsely, and tried to turn away. But Warrick held onto him, and Nick flanked his other side, trying to show his support somehow.

 

Greg was so distraught that he didn't want to stop moving. Nick hated seeing him like this. "Sure you can," he soothed, rubbing his hand in circles on Greg's lower back. Greg shook his head, turning to face him.

 

"No, I can't," he repeated, and twisted smoothly out of Warrick's grip. He didn't start pacing again, though; instead, he turned so his back was to both of them, and started to pull down his pants.

 

Nick didn't know what Greg's point was, but if he was going to show them why he couldn't sit down and it had anything to do with what he and Gil had done the day before... "Okay, Greg, we don't have to see-" Nick paused. Greg wasn't pulling his pants all the way off or even showing them his whole backside. All they could see was the half moon of Greg's left cheek, with a fresh bandage taped to it on the upper part near the hip. "Did someone hurt you?"

 

Warrick's hand on his shoulder stopped him. Nick looked up at him, but Warrick was only looking at Greg, turning the younger man around to face him. "You got it, didn't you?" he asked quietly, and Greg nodded, then let his head drop. Nick wasn't sure what Warrick was talking about, but fortunately, Warrick easily read his confusion. "He got a tattoo," Warrick explained, and Greg gingerly pulled his pants back into place.

 

Nick wasn't sure what to think about that. It wasn't that he had an issue with tattoos - obviously not, since Warrick had one - but what were the chances that he'd gotten the tattoo on the same day Gil had disappeared? Did Greg getting the tattoo today have anything to do with what had happened the day before, whatever had made Greg so cheerful again that he'd started playing his old music and even making them breakfast? Did Gil's disappearance have anything to do with how close Greg and Gil had gotten the day before despite the fact that Nick and Warrick had been there?

 

Maybe the intimacy they'd shared had opposite reactions on the two, inspiring Greg to get a tattoo he'd obviously thought about before since Warrick knew about it, and scaring Gil when he realized how close they'd gotten with other people in the house.

 

"I thought it was time," Greg practically whispered. "Yesterday he was so... oh, no," he groaned, looking up at Warrick all of a sudden. "Dammit." Then he hugged himself and started pacing again, muttering incoherently. Nick exchanged a concerned look with Warrick, who caught up with Greg and put his arms around him.

 

"What is it?"

 

Greg shook his head and tried to step away, but Warrick held on tight, leaving Nick to watch as they both struggled for control. Nick wasn't sure if he should do something, try to talk to them, but neither Greg nor Warrick seemed to be fighting to the best of their ability. It was as if the struggle was just a test, to see who would give in first, who really didn't want to win the struggle. And Greg was the one who conceded, even though Nick knew he could have gotten away easily.

 

"We had a fight," Greg finally said, "before."

 

It was easy to guess what Greg meant by 'before'. Before the two of them had gone to bed; so it possible that Greg had mistaken makeup sex for some kind of sign that Gil was ready for Greg to get a tattoo. Not that it was clear if Gil knew about that tattoo or what the tattoo was, but it was barely a leap in logic to assume that it had something to do with Greg and Gil's relationship. Maybe Gil's name or his initials, something that represented Greg's lover. Which made it all the more upsetting that Gil had taken off - or been kidnapped.

 

"We'll find him," Nick promised, and joined Warrick in holding the younger man. He didn't have any answers; didn't know why Gil had left, or if he'd even left of his own accord. No one knew except for Gil, and they'd have to put aside doubt and blame so they could concentrate on finding him.

 

***

 

They decided to split up, Nick and Warrick heading for the crime lab to ask around, to find out who'd seen Gil last, and when and where. Greg would stay home and wait to see if Gil came back or tried to call, meanwhile calling Catherine and Brass to see if they had any information on his 'roommate'.

 

Greg's call came before they even reached the crime lab. "He's fine, you don't have worry," he heard Greg say through Warrick's phone, and then the line went dead. Nick looked to Warrick for some kind of explanation; Warrick sighed and motioned for Nick to turn the car around. Obviously, Greg wasn't talking, and they were going to have to do something about that. Or, at the very least, be there for him.

 

***

 

Rather than investigate further, Warrick and Nick agreed to wait and see if Greg would talk to them. They didn't decide on a specific time frame, assuming that it wouldn't be long before Greg told them what was going on.

 

Greg wasn't in a very talkative mood when they got back to the house, but he did allow them to put him to bed without much protest. The protest he gave was no stronger than the way he'd struggled against Warrick's hold earlier, weak and unconvincing, but let Greg make his point. Nick understood the desire not to give in too easily, to make sure they were really determined to take care of him even if he acted like he didn't want it. Once they had Greg in bed, sandwiched between the two of them, he fell asleep almost immediately, curling into Nick.

 

It wasn't the way he'd pictured sharing a bed with Greg for the first time, but it felt right, a confirmation that there was and would be more to their relationship than sex. Once Greg had fallen asleep, Nick reached over his hip to take Warrick's hand, wanting to be close to him, too. Warrick smiled sleepily at him, and Nick fell asleep with the thought that even though Gil was gone, at least he'd have this chance to be there for Warrick and Greg.

 

***

 

Someone's cell phone rang while they were having dinner, Warrick and Greg already dressed for work, Nick still in his boxers. It turned out to be Nick's cell; he double-checked before he answered it, and checked the caller ID. "Huh." It was Catherine. Nick had no idea why she'd be calling, but he answered anyway. "Stokes."

 

"Nick, hey." He could already tell by the sound of her voice that she was frazzled and rushed. "I'm glad I caught you. You didn't pick up your house phone..." Nick tried to come up with an excuse, but Catherine was already continuing, not seeming to care about the reason. "Anyway, I know this is last minute, and I know it's supposed to be your last night off, but I need you to come in."

 

That was the last thing he'd expected to hear. "But-"

 

"Look, you've done your time, and Gil says you can come back to work. Actually, he wants you to come back to work." Nick scowled. Gil had talked to Catherine, but not to any of them? What was he thinking? Why was he putting them through this? Didn't he realize how worried they'd be? "He's put in for some personal time, which can be approved once he's found a suitable replacement to supervise for the time he's gone," Catherine continued. "I'm not here every night, so for the shifts I'm not here, he wants you to supervise."

 

The shock must have been written all over his face because Warrick was staring at him, obviously wanting to know what Catherine was saying, but he didn't interrupt. Nick opened his mouth, not sure what to say besides 'yes'. Gil might have abandoned them, but that didn't mean he could let down the team. "I... guess I can..."

 

"Great, Nick, that's great. So I'll see you tonight?"

 

"Uh, yeah," he said, hanging up after Cath thanked him. He frowned over at Warrick and Greg. "Gil's taking some personal time," he announced, not surprised when Greg looked away guiltily. So that was what Greg had kept from them. Nick would bet he didn't know that Gil wanted him to go in to supervise, though. "And he wants me to take over as supervisor until he gets back."

 

"What?" Greg's head shot up at that and he glared in Nick's direction. Usually Nick would have thought Greg was glaring at him, too, but he was pissed enough at Gil that he assumed Greg was mad at Gil, not him. His suspicion was confirmed a moment later when Greg slammed his hand down on the table and stood up, muttering to himself and quickly getting louder. "He planned this. He fucking planned this!"

 

Nick would have to agree. There was no reason Gil had to take Catherine to San Antonio the week he'd left Nick in charge unless he'd wanted to test Nick's ability to supervise. Hell, it would've been more appropriate to name Sophia as supervisor - she was the one with experience. She'd been supervisor before her report in Gil's favor had gotten her demoted by Ecklie. That had to burn Gil, knowing that he'd been indirectly responsible for Sophia's demotion... but Nick wasn't feeling sorry for Gil today. Gil had left them, and more importantly, he'd left Greg, the man who lived with him and loved him.

 

No. Nick wasn't feeling sorry for Gil. Not tonight, and maybe not ever again.


	22. Chapter 15B

He saw Greg in the break room near the end of shift, sitting carefully on his right side. Nick didn't know what Greg planned to say if anyone asked about what looked like an uncomfortable position, but knowing Greg, he'd find some excuse.

 

No one had paged him, which meant there weren't any new leads on the case he and Sara were working. Deciding to take advantage of the free time to take a quick break, Nick slipped into the break room and took a seat across from Greg.

 

"Does it hurt?" Maybe he shouldn't bring up the tattoo that was just a reminder of what Gil meant to Greg, or had meant before he'd left, but it wasn't like Greg could forget about it. This was Nick's chance to find out if Greg was willing to talk about it in a neutral environment, and it would help Nick decide how to act with him after work.

 

Greg looked up from his nuked noodles and smirked. "You ever have someone jab you with a needle a few hundred times in the same place?"

 

Nick hadn't thought about it that way, but now that Greg mentioned it, it probably did hurt. "Not that I can remember." Greg was acting like he was just asking about the tattoo, like it didn't have anything to do with Gil. Maybe Greg was avoiding the subject, maybe he wasn't, but there was only one way to find out. "What does it look like?"

 

Greg did pause at that, then pushed up from the table, and for a second Nick was sure he'd gone too far. He was just about to apologize when Greg returned with a pen and a section of newspaper. "It looks kinda like a heart," Greg said quietly, and started to draw. The bottom had two points instead of one, and the top was curved differently. "The left side is a G. The right side's another G but backwards," Greg explained.

 

Nick looked up to study with Greg's face, but Greg's expression wasn't revealing much. It was the same somber expression Nick had started to see back during the summer, before he'd known the reason behind Greg's unusual behavior. Nick didn't know all the reasons, but he knew that before, it had been a combination of Nick's kidnapping and new relationship wih Warrick. Some of that might still be coming into play, but Greg's current mood was probably mostly Gil's fault.

 

They hadn't talked about it in detail yet; hadn't had a chance. But they would. Greg had to feel terrible - not just pissed at Gil, but he was probably also blaming himself because of the fight. Nick was going to find out what the fight had been about, just like Warrick had insisted on talking to him about his fight with Greg. The big difference here was that Greg and Nick had made up later; Gil had responded to the fight by pretending to make up, and then leaving.

 

Nick wasn't really sure the fight was the whole reason Gil had left. It might have played a part in his decision to leave, but Nick had the feeling that Gil had been planning this for a long time. Why else would he have made sure Nick could supervise? Gil must have been planning this since Nick had hooked up with Warrick for the first time, certain that the addition of Nick to their relationship would mean he didn't have a place in it any more. It was just a theory, and one that didn't completely make sense since Gil had waited almost two whole months to leave, but Nick had to explain it to himself somehow.

 

"Gil Grissom," Nick guessed, studying the heart Greg had drawn. Greg nodded.

 

"And on the inside," he continued, writing more letters within the heart, "I L Y." Nick cocked his head, not sure what that meant, but Greg seemed to have expected him not to understand because he looked up and faced Nick then. "I," he said, lifting his hand in a fist and raising his pinky finger. Then he held up index finger and thumb, the way kids did to hold it up to their foreheads and say 'loser'. "L." Then Greg lowered his thumb and raised his pinky finger again, keeping index finger up.

 

Nick knew that one. "Rock on," he grinned. Greg snorted, and shook his head.

 

"Why."

 

"Because it's-"

 

"No," Greg interrupted, still shaking his head. "The letter Y."

 

Nick held up his fingers the way Greg was. "Y," he repeated. Greg nodded.

 

"Now you put them together. I," Greg held up his pinky, "L," he held up the loser symbol, "Y," he finished with the 'rock on' gesture. Nick nodded, still not sure what it meant. Then Greg did put them together, holding up his thumb and index finger and pinky all at the same time. "I L Y. It's ASL shorthand for 'I love you'," he summarized quietly.

 

Nick sobered. "Oh." ASL. American Sign Language. ASL shorthand for 'I love you' on a tattoo that had Gil's initials. Well, that explained how Gil had been able to read his lips. "Gil taught you that, didn't he." It was a statement, not a question, but a shake of Greg's head told him he was wrong.

 

"He's taught me some finger-spelling and a few signs, but he hasn't taught me 'I love you'." Greg sighed. "We um, we haven't said it since I asked him to move in with me."

 

Nick wished they weren't in public. He wanted so badly to reassure Greg with touch, a hand on his face or something as simple as a hug. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. Greg shrugged.

 

"Maybe he doesn't anymore. If he did, he wouldn't have left." Scowling, Greg bent to cross out the image he'd drawn in the corner of the paper, his hand moving so violently that Nick actually did reach out to put his hand over Greg's, consequences be damned.

 

"Stop it," he said softly. Greg continued to glare at the heavy lines of ink on the paper, his arm shaking so hard Nick knew his hand would be shaking too if Nick wasn't holding onto it. Nick leaned in close and kept his voice low so he'd be able to hear if anyone opened the break room door. "He does love you," Nick insisted, not sure whether he was sticking up for Gil or just trying to reassure Greg. Probably the latter, because Gil didn't deserve to have anyone stick up for him. "I've seen the way he looks at you, how comfortable he is with you. He loves you, Greg." Greg shook his head, and Nick ached to hold him, but all he could do was stroke his thumb over Greg's hand. "He loves you so much he'd rather walk away now than lose you when he wasn't expecting it." Nick wasn't sure where that had come from, but now that he said it, it made sense.

 

"Why would he lose me?" Greg's voice was hoarse, his tone incredulous. "I'm not going anywhere. I love him. And I mean, he's older than me, he's gonna die first..."

 

"You can't be sure of that. Not when we do the work we do," Nick reminded him, using Greg's words from the time Nick had physically assaulted him. It felt like liftetimes ago. "But that's not what I'm talking about. Look at me, Greg." Greg's eyes slid to the side, looking obediently but warily at him. "Don't tell me you weren't scared Warrick was gonna leave you and Gil when you found out me an' him were together. How do you think Gil felt?"

 

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but Nick saw the second they did, when Greg's eyes widened and he looked fully at Nick. "You really think so? He thinks I'm gonna leave because of you?"

 

"Me an' Warrick, yeah," Nick nodded. "You told me yourself how he pulled away when Warrick was added to the picture. Remember?"

 

Understanding finally dawned on Greg's face. "Oh my God, you're right. I just... I thought since we lived together he knew..."

 

Now that he'd had the chance to reassure Greg, Nick pulled back just in case anyone might see them, and companionably squeezed Greg's shoulder. He remembered something else that might have something to do with Gil's uncertainty, which Nick was now convinced was the reason Gil had left. "Before I even knew who you two were, Warrick told me he hadn't been ready to move in with his other two lovers. But he an' I've been spending a lot of time there ever since I found out, you know?"

 

"Yeah," Greg agreed, shaking his head incredulously. "But I kept sleeping with him, I never slept with you two. And - just sleep, even. I mean we've had sex and stuff, but I've been in our bed every single night..." Greg's voice trailed off, and Nick took a deep breath. That was a little more information than he needed to know. He was okay with thinking about Greg having sex, but he still thought of Gil as his boss.

 

He still thought of Gil as his boss. Maybe Warrick did too. No wonder Gil was insecure. Combined with the fact that Gil was twenty years older than Greg and fifteen years older than Warrick and Nick, and that Nick hadn't shown any sexual attraction to him - which wasn't much more than the attraction he'd seen from Warrick toward Gil - and of course Gil thought they'd be more interested in each other than in him.

 

Was that something Nick could change? Was it something he wanted to change? Nick wasn't sure. All he was sure of was that he was starting to understand why Gil had left, and that even though Gil had gone about it the wrong way, too abruptly, too selfishly, maybe Gil could be forgiven.

 

If he ever came back. "Greg," he began cautiously, "do you want to keep looking for him?" There was more to that question than whether or not Greg wanted them to be detectives. Nick needed to know whether Greg wanted to find Gil, and if they did find Gil, whether Greg would be able to forgive him for his mistakes and take him back. It would take time and effort on all their parts to build the trust that hadn't really been there to begin with, but if Greg was willing to take Gil back, maybe the three of them together could show Gil that he didn't have to spend his life worrying about when the people he cared about were going to leave him.

 

"Yeah," Greg whispered without hesitation, standing up quickly. Probably to hide the tears he was wiping away with the back of his arm, and Nick wasn't about to pressure Greg to face him. He was, however, going to offer his support.

 

"You want Warrick an' me to come back to your place after work? Or do you want to come to ours?"

 

Greg turned around then, cocking his head. "Yours? Plural?" he asked. For a second, Nick was confused, then he realized what he'd said.

 

"I mean," he corrected, "Warrick's." Nick felt a flush creep over his face and he tried not to smile, but it was a lost cause. "Sorry, I've just... been spending so much time there it feels like I live there."

 

"Yeah," Greg sighed. He rested his hand on Nick's chest as he passed him on the way out of the break room. "I know the feeling. Yours," he smiled, and then left.


	23. Chapter 15C

  
Author's notes: A piece of the puzzle is missing.  


* * *

It had been a long night and they had a lot to talk about, so they decided to do it in bed. Not only would they be able to fall asleep when they got tired, it would be a more comfortable position for Greg when Warrick took care of his tattoo.

 

Nick couldn't forget that this was supposed to be Gil's job. Sure, people got tattoos all the time and took care of them themselves, but Greg had gotten the tattoo for Gil, and he'd gotten it in a location that was difficult for Greg to clean himself. So it was with complete seriousness that Nick got on his back in bed and watched Greg peel off his t-shirt, letting it fall to the side before he crawled into bed and half on top of Nick. "Comfortable?" he asked, and Greg nodded, looking over his shoulder toward the bathroom.

 

Warrick was coming out with the lotion he'd gone for, his casual swagger to the bed sexier than Nick should be noticing right now. It was hard to help it, though, especially when Warrick was in his boxers like the rest of them, but there was no reason for them to stay fully clothed when they were just going to talk and sleep. Nick would just have to ignore the attraction for once and remember what they were here for.

 

"And it's not itching," Warrick asked for the second time. Greg shook his head.

 

"Trust me, I'll tell you if it does," Greg promised, smirking slightly as he rolled his eyes at Nick. Nick smiled slightly but didn't say anything, still unsure of his role in this. It wasn't just his lack of experience with tattoos, it was the pink elephant on Greg's ass, the reminder of Gil and the fact that the only reason they were the ones doing this instead of Gil was that Gil had disappeared on them. "So," Greg began casually, "how was your first night back at work?"

 

Apparently they weren't going to talk about Gil yet. Nick could play along; he knew Warrick would bring it up eventually. "Let's see," he murmured, then shifted when Warrick pulled down the edge of Greg's boxers. It was so intimate, the three of them in bed like this, Greg lying on top of him so Warrick could put lotion on his butt. Nick was pretty sure he'd never been in a situation like this. "I worked with Sara, but you knew that." Greg nodded, and behind him, so did Warrick. "She told me Gil made her take a couple weeks off once. Remember that time she and I were up for the same promotion, and Gil recommended me instead?" He looked at Warrick for that, because he'd been closer to Warrick than Greg at the time and Warrick was the one he'd talked to about it. Warrick nodded.

 

"And neither of you got it because they used the budget for the biorobot instead?" Warrick asked. Greg grinned.

 

"The biorobot was definitely a better investment," Greg teased. He winked at Nick and then jumped when Warrick lightly smacked his ass. Nick was surprised, but Greg just grinned wider. "Biorobot," he repeated, and raised his eyebrow at Warrick over his shoulder, but Warrick didn't smack him again, just raised his own eyebrow at Greg. Greg pouted, then turned to grin at Nick. "Well, it was."

 

Nick ignored Greg for the moment. "Isn't that favoritism?" he asked. He hadn't even considered the possibility that Gil had recommended him over Sara because of an attraction he hadn't been aware of, but Greg had ended up getting the benefit of the budget, and Greg was in a relationship with Gil. But Greg laughed and Warrick was shaking his head.

 

"Wasn't Gil's call," Warrick pointed out. "Gil's boss's... boss. Or something."

 

"Right," Nick agreed. He had to admit, he felt a little better knowing that Gil's relationship with Greg hadn't affected what the budget had been used for. He suddenly remembered the first time he'd seen Gil in Greg's home, the domestic scene in which Greg had been more comfortable than Gil, and the instrument catalog Gil had given him. Gil hadn't let Greg think he could get anything from the catalog then, either. "Anyway, Sara didn't take it too well. Got pulled over for a DUI, wasn't charged but they told Gil about it." Even though Sara had confided that to him, Nick wasn't breaking any confidences because it was all public record. Everyone knew about it, it just hadn't been talked about in a while.

 

"We know," Warrick said. "Especially Greg."

 

Greg groaned. "You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?"

 

"Live what down?"

 

Greg didn't answer, so Warrick did. "Sara went over to Greg's and told him what happened. They were kissing when I got there."

 

"Oh my God," Greg groaned. "I did not kiss her back."

 

"Not that time," Warrick smirked. "But you have kissed her."

 

"Yes," Greg agreed, clearly annoyed. "I've slept with her, too. But it was, like, three years ago, man. Get over it."

 

Warrick laughed. "I am over it. It's just cute."

 

Nick wasn't sure what Warrick found cute about Greg and Sara sleeping together, so he figured there must be some inside joke he was missing. "You slept with Sara three years ago?" he asked. "Isn't that when you and Griss started dating?"

 

"We weren't dating yet," Greg grumbled, glancing at Warrick over his shoulder as he finished up with the lotion and settled on Greg's other side. The mood had sobered now that Gil had been brought up, and Greg seemed frustrated. "Heather still couldn't get Gil to play with me, and I needed sex. Sara and I hooked up." Greg laughed. "We didn't tell Gil about it, because it was none of his business, but he figured it out and it bent his nose outta joint for a while. I think that's what finally convinced him to meet with me at Heather's, actually."

 

That was interesting. "How'd Sara deal with that?"

 

"Sara?" Greg shrugged. "Nah, man, it was just casual. She was more into Hank than me. Well, until she found out about the other girl." Greg smiled somewhat sadly. "I was with Gil by then, so I had to tell her I was with someone. We stayed up all day talking instead. It was nice."

 

It sounded like there was a lot Nick didn't know about Greg. But Warrick didn't seem to harbor any bad feelings about it, so Nick figured he didn't have to, either. "Sara, huh," he contemplated. Greg nodded. "You had sex with her." Just to clarify.

 

Greg laughed. "Yeah." He regarded Nick curiously for a moment, then raised an eyebrow. "You don't see the attraction?"

 

Nick stifled a cough. He wasn't about to say a woman was unattractive, even if he was gay. It ocurred to him that he'd never said he was gay out loud. It wasn't about not wanting to admit it to himself, since he had, it just felt sort of like a lie after all the women he'd slept with. And sometimes he'd actually enjoyed it. "Um." Nick frowned, trying to remember an ocassion when he'd found Sara attractive.

 

Greg had always been pretty obvious about his crush on Sara, even if sometimes it seemed forced. Now that Nick knew that they'd actually slept together, he wondered if Greg had just been trying to throw people off about the fact that they really had had sex with each other. Nick scratched his head, grinning sheepishly. Okay, so he'd never really been attracted to Sara. "Well, she has a nice voice," he allowed. Sara forgot herself sometimes when she got so deep in the evidence that she'd start humming to herself, and then singing. She had a very nice singing voice. Her talking voice was nice, too, when she was happy.

 

"Yeah, she does," Greg agreed enthusiastically. "One time she talked me into doing karaoke - I still don't know why I agreed to it - and I totally sucked. She was good, though." Greg smirked. "Maybe that's why."

 

"You were just hard up," Warrick said from behind. Greg winked at Nick, then turned around to pounce on Warrick. Nick laughed and watched them struggle for control, a fond smile on his face as they wrestled playfully right next to him. It reminded him of the way he and Warrick could be sometimes, and the inherent trust that allowed them to be playful together.

 

The bigger trust was in the fact that Greg and Sara still worked together and there wasn't any jealousy on Warrick's part, just amusement. A big part of that was probably due to how casual it seemed to have been between Greg and Sara; they'd had sex, they hadn't been in love. She wasn't a threat to Warrick's relationship with Greg - not the way Gil thought Warrick and Nick were threats to his relationship with Greg.

 

"You guys," he said, interrupting their play. "We gotta find Gil."

 

***

 

They didn't find Gil. Not that day, at least. They didn't know where he'd gone and they couldn't ask Archie to try to trace his credit cards without arousing suspicion. Gil was supposed to be Greg's roommate, not his lover. If Greg didn't know where Gil was, there would be no reason to search for him because it meant that Gil didn't want him to know. It was frustrating to all of them, but there was nothing they could do.

 

He opened the instructions for his new supervisory position that night. His first night back had been official and paid, but the graveyard shift had been in the middle of three cases and they'd been short on staff. Catherine had been officially supervising, but even she'd been in the field, picking up what slack he could.

 

It was bizarre to sit in Grissom's office, to know that he'd be taking Gil's place as boss in the crime lab for the next three nights, and whatever additional nights Cath took off while Gil was gone. The instructions were mostly standard instructions about paperwork that needed to be caught up on and cases that needed to be taken care of. What caught Nick's eye, though, was the handwritten letter Gil had included with the instructions. It might have looked like a simple thank-you letter to Nick for taking over as supervisor to anyone else, but Nick knew better. It was personal.

 

Nick,

 

I'd like to thank you for taking over on such short notice. While my absence at this time is unexpected, I assure you that it is not without reason, although I cannot disclose that reason at this time. Take care of my team while I'm gone, Nick. I'm confident that you're the right man for the job.

 

Grissom

 

***

 

He had to talk to Warrick and Greg about the note, but he was damned if he knew how to start that conversation. So, hey, Griss doesn't just want me to take over as supervisor, he wants me to take his place in the relationship. He's appointed me to take care of you two. It was upsetting, to say the least. He hadn't signed on for this. All he'd wanted was to be an equal partner in the relationship. He'd never meant to push Gil away and now that Gil was gone, Gil had left it to him to pick up the pieces.

 

As if he was the most level-headed of the group. Gil might have lacked the ideal social skills, but at least he knew how to stay calm. Gil had never been anything but calm, except... there had been that one time when he'd found the baby at the crime scene and turned the lab upside down to make sure that case was priority, but that was the only time Nick had seen Gil lose his temper.

 

Nick had lost his temper plenty of times. Not only with suspects recently - and wasn't that the whole reason he'd had to take two weeks off? - but with Greg, too. And he was the one Gil was entrusting with his family? Nick was so new to the family, too; Warrick would've been a better choice, even though he lost his temper a lot, and boy was he going to be pissed when he saw what Gil had written. Because Nick was going to show it to him, and Grissom was an idiot if he thought Nick wasn't.

 

Greg would've been the best candidate for man of the house while Gil was gone. He knew how to keep his cool. More than once he'd heard - and not just from Warrick, but from everyone else who'd been there - how Warrick had lost it while they'd been searching for him, and Greg and everyone else had just kept a wary eye on him and gone back to work. If anyone could keep them together, it would be Greg.

 

Except that Greg was the one who'd be hurt the most by Gil's disappearance. Greg was the one who lived with Gil, who slept in the same bed. Greg was the one who'd have to either get used to sleeping alone or start sleeping with them, and as well as they were getting along now, Nick knew he just wasn't Gil, and neither was Warrick. There was a reason Greg had never left Gil for Warrick, and that reason could only be love. There was no reason for Greg to have remained loyal to Gil for so long unless he'd been in love with the man. Didn't Gil see that?

 

There was a more painful truth in all of this, though. Gil choosing him, putting this resonsibility on him, could only mean one thing: Gil needed Nick to take care of Greg and Warrick because they were the ones Gil was leaving. Nick had had two weeks to ingratiate himself with Gil, make it clear that he wanted to be a part of their family, and he hadn't accomplished that. Gil didn't consider him a lover - and there was no reason he should - or a partner or even a part of his household. And why should he? It wasn't like Nick had made the effort. It wasn't like he'd treated Gil as anything other than a boss except for that last morning, when he'd told them about his past and approached Gil for comfort and acceptance. Gil had finally given it, but reluctantly.

 

Which meant that Nick was still an outsider, assigned to take care of the ones Gil loved and cared for. Nick firmly believed that, even though Gil had left. Gil had left because he'd been afraid of them leaving him. Nick had only factored in as someone outside the situation, someone who wouldn't be affected by it enough that he couldn't help by being there.

 

Nick wanted to be mad at Gil for seeing him that way, but Nick knew he had no right. Gil was right. Nick hadn't made the effort to be with Gil the way he had with Warrick and Greg; he'd never looked at Gil as anything other than a boss and once, a confidant. Just because Nick was in love with Warrick and had started to realize his crush on Greg - which had undoubtedly been there all along, especially when he remembered how much they used to flirt - didn't mean that he had feelings for Gil or had tried to explore any feelings that might be under the surface. Gil had no reason to look at him as anything other than an employee and his lovers' friend and lover, and Nick had no reason to expect him to do so.

 

They were both at fault here, Nick as much as Gil. The fight Greg had had with Gil might have contributed to Gil leaving, too, but without knowing how often they fought, Nick had no way of knowing just how much of an effect that'd had. As for Warrick, Nick couldn't think of a single thing Warrick could've done that would've factored into Gil's decision to leave.

 

But this wasn't the time to assign blame. He had to figure out what to tell Warrick and Greg, but before he even approached the personal aspect of the letter, he had to remind himself that his instructions were, first and foremost, instructions on supervising the graveyard shift. Gil was gone, Catherine was gone, and Nick was in charge. He had a team to lead.

 

***

 

"Okay, guys? I have assignments here..."

 

Nick felt like a substitute teacher. Everyone was in the break room; Warrick, Greg, Sara, and Sophia, who was joining the team tonight on the condition that she was on call as a detective. It was actually pretty useful having someone who could go back and forth, the way Greg still went back and forth between the field and the lab.

 

Unfortunately, no one was paying attention to him. They were all sitting around the break room tv watching sports news and as much as Nick wanted to join them, they all had a job to do.

 

He couldn't help but remember when Catherine had started officially supervising. Nick was so used to her as a co-CSI, not a boss, and when she'd asked if he liked her as a boss, he'd said Whatever. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but he'd respected her authority about as much as his team was respecting his supervisory role now.

 

There was only thing to do. Nick went and stood in front of the tv, blocking their view, but as much as they grumbled, it reminded them that yes, Nick was in charge, and yes, they had crime scenes to investigate.

 

"One solo," he informed them, waving it in the air. Solos were highly desired cases, since only the most experienced CSIs could take them. Greg couldn't because he was only CSI I, and Nick could remember plenty of times he'd requested a solo even as a CSI III and been denied. "I'll take it so there's no fighting." Nick smiled at all the eyerolling everyone did, but hey, he was the boss tonight. "And I have a, let's see, homicide in Summerlin and a rape at UNLV."

 

After a beat of silence, Sophia and Warrick spoke up at the same time. "I'll take the rape." Sophia exchanged a glance with Warrick when she realized they'd both offered to take the case, and raised her eyebrows. "You and me?"

 

Warrick took a quick look around the group, and as there seemed to be no dissent, he nodded. So Nick handed them the notes for the case, and gave the last assignmnt to Sara, who was sitting closer than Greg. "Okay, that leaves you two with the homicide." Greg nodded and started to get up just as Warrick started to leave the room with Sophia, but Nick stopped them in time by raising his voice. "I want updates before you leave in the morning, and let me know whenever you have a suspect or have to get a warrant," he reminded them. That had been part of his instructions, something he'd been doing with Gil for years, and Cath on occasion. The boss always needed to know what was going on with all the cases.

 

"Will do, Boss," Warrick confirmed with a wink that hopefully only Nick saw. Nick's surrogate team filtered out of the break room, leaving him to head over to the Strip to investigate his suspicious circs.

 

He paused at the reception desk on his way out to see if he had any new messages, surprised to see Greg there, too. It looked like Greg was just getting his own messages, or making sure he didn't have any; it didn't look like he'd been waiting for Nick. Still, it made him nervous, because Greg hadn't given any indication of how he was dealing with Nick taking over as supervisor.

 

Greg looked at him blankly, and for a moment, Nick wondered if Greg even saw him. Then Greg gave a wry smile and shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning back against the reception desk. "You're not gonna grow another mustache, are you?"

 

Nick laughed in relief. "Not plannin' to," he smiled, and walked with Greg out to the parking lot. "I'll consult with you first if I decide to, kay?"

 

Something changed in Greg's eyes and he nodded, completely serious. "Kay," he agreed. "See you later."


	24. Chapter 16A

  
Author's notes: The space between the tears we cry is the laughter keeps us coming back for more. Nick is there for the fallout.  


* * *

When Greg announced that he wasn't going home with them a few days later, Nick worried that he'd done something wrong. But Greg just shook his head, quick to reassure Nick that it was just an appointment with his PEAP counselor. "I'm going back to my place after. The fish don't feed themselves," he laughed unenthusiastically. Nick nodded; he knew by now that even though most of the fish lived off the algae in the tanks, some of them didn't, and needed to be fed daily. "You two uh, wanna stop by after?"

 

It was interesting that Greg asked them to stop by his place after the appointment instead of just having Nick and Warrick feed his fish for him. It wasn't an issue of trust, really; Warrick had fed the fish before, and he had his own key to get in. Nick would, too, once they remembered to get a copy made. No, for some reason Greg wanted to go back to his place.

 

Not that that should be unexpected. Greg and Gil owned the townhouse together, and even though it was paid for, they still had the monthly maintainance and electricity and amenity fees, and just because Gil wasn't there was no reason for the money spent to go to waste. Kind of like the bills Nick was still paying on his place were going to waste, because he rarely went over there anymore.

 

Suddenly Nick knew what he was going to do with the time he had alone with Warrick this morning. "Sure, we'll come by in a few hours. That okay?" By that time it would be time for them to fall asleep, but if Greg didn't want them sleeping there, Greg shouldn't have a problem telling them that.

 

"Sure," Greg agreed, looking at Warrick for confirmation. Warrick nodded and gave Greg a pat on the back before he headed for his own car, followed closely by Nick after he waved to Greg.

 

"Hey Warrick, wait up," he called. They usually went straight to Warrick's after work, so he wanted to let Warrick know about his plans. "I wanted to stop by my place first. You wanna come?" In the past few weeks, Nick had stopped briefly by his own house, usually on the way to Warrick's for a quick stop to check the mail and get anything he needed. This time, though, he wanted Warrick with him to demonstrate just how little he went to his house anymore.

 

"Yeah, sure," Warrick agreed with a nod. "I'll meet you there."

 

***

 

The dust coating Nick's furniture had gotten so thick that he could tell it was there without even wiping his finger across the surface. Warrick hadn't followed directly, but Nick wasn't worried yet. Another fifteen minutes, maybe, and he'd call Warrick, but until then, he could at least get started on getting rid of some of the dust.

 

If Warrick was agreeable to it, Nick wanted to sell the house and move in with him. It was a huge step, he knew, especially when they'd only been dating for a few months, but he was practically living there already. Besides, they'd been friends long enough that it wouldn't be odd if they moved in just to share the cost of living. That wasn't the only reason Nick wanted to move in with him, of course, but it would be a nice side benefit.

 

He'd have to be careful about how he brought it up. He and Warrick hadn't discussed living together since that first talk; heck, Greg knew more about Nick's feelings on the issue just from his comment the other night about Warrick's place feeling like his own. And it did.

 

This house didn't really feel like home to Nick anymore. It had felt like that, years ago, years before his privacy had been invaded by Nigel Crane. Nick still got chills remembering how long Nigel had been there, in his own house, without him even noticing; how could someone live in his attic and watch every thing he did without Nick knowing he was there? That was always at the forefront of Nick's mind when he went back to his house, and it was the reason he always kept his visits so short. Logically he knew that Crane wasn't in his house anymore, but logic couldn't keep the hairs on the back of his neck from standing up.

 

The sound of a floorboard creaking alerted Nick's attention and he spun around, his heart beating a lot faster than he'd like. Nick's shoulders sagged when he realized it was just Warrick, finally having gotten there after whatever detour he'd taken.

 

He didn't verbalize his surprise or the fact that Warrick had nearly given him a heart attack, but Warrick noticed his discomfort anyway. "Hey, sorry," he said apologetically, striding over to join Nick by the sofa where he'd been dusting the coffee table. "Shoulda said somethin' but I got distracted by the view."

 

Nick frowned, confused at first as to what view Warrick was talking about. But between Warrick's downward glance and the dust rag still in his hands, Nick remembered that he'd been bending over to dust, and a blush crept up his neck and face as he realized what Warrick had been looking at.

 

He wasn't sure how to change the subject, but as it turned out, he didn't have to. Warrick stepped forward and for a moment, Nick thought he was going to kiss him, but Warrick continued past him to sit down in the middle of the couch. Nick dropped down to join him, not hesitating to lean into Warrick's side. If Warrick hadn't reacted, he would've sat back up, but Warrick immediately lifted his arm to slip it around Nick's shoulders, pulling him close.

 

It was the first time they'd gotten to be alone since Greg's announcement that Gil was gone. It had been less than a week, but each day had been spent worrying and wondering and most of all, making Greg the center of their attention. Nick didn't really mind, and he knew Warrick didn't either, but it was a nice change to have a few minutes alone with his lover again.

 

And Warrick was his lover, wasn't he? Even though they shared a bed, it had been easy to forget that, between the focus that had been on Greg and the fact that they hadn't had sex since before Gil had disappeared. For the past week, it had felt like Warrick was more of a close friend than a lover, but the love was still there, and so was the comfort of being close to him.

 

Well, it was now or never. "Been a while since I came back here," he commented almost casually, not daring to look at Warrick. "Thinkin' maybe it's time to sell this place."

 

The pause wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. Neither was the vaguely curious tone of Warrick's voice when he finally answered. "Yeah? Where you gonna stay?"

 

Nick turned to stare at Warrick's face, just to make sure he wasn't joking, and slammed into Warrick's thigh with his knee. Warrick grimaced, but said nothing, hiding his thoughts on the house issue behind a carefully composed expression. "Well, I was thinkin' maybe I could stay with you," he replied, immediately regretting his defensive tone. Now was not the time to get in an argument, not when he wanted to talk Warrick into letting him move in.

 

He didn't understand Warrick's attempt to play dumb. They were already practically living together, and Warrick had already said he'd been ready for Nick to move in for ten years. Granted, Nick knew that was probably an exagerration, but Warrick's past statements weren't matching up with his present behavior.

 

Warrick looked down at the coffee table. "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

 

Even after Warrick had purposely missed the point before, Nick wasn't expecting that. It stung. How could it not be a good idea to make official what they'd already been doing for weeks? Nick had been staying with Warrick for that long and they'd stayed together before, more than once. If Warrick didn't think it was a good idea, why had he been leading Nick on by acting like it was okay this whole time?

 

"Since when?" Warrick had been nothing but enthusiastic and happy about their relationship. He hadn't shown any signs of being reluctant to take things to the next level, and Nick hadn't thought that just meant sex. Maybe he'd been wrong. Just because Warrick had been enthusiastic at the beginning didn't mean he still wanted the same thing as before. Shit, what if Warrick really had just wanted to let Nick experiment with him, didn't really want to commit anything? Would Warrick have given him the whole line about wanting him for ten years just to get him into bed?

 

No... no, Warrick wouldn't do that. Warrick was his best friend. Warrick wouldn't take advantage of him like that. Then what? What had changed? Was it Nick? Was it something he'd done, or not done? Did Warrick not like how slow they were going or how inexperienced or eager or... or small Nick was? Would Warrick not want him because of something as petty as that? "Are you - do you not want this anymore?"

 

He'd had no idea. No idea that Warrick didn't feel the same way. If he'd known, he wouldn't have suggested it. Warrick made him happier than he'd been in any of his relationships, and not just because Warrick was a man instead of a woman. If he'd known that asking for more was going to ruin it, he would've kept his mouth shut.

 

"No!" It was a quick denial, and harsher than Nick would've expected after Warrick had shut his emotions down so smoothly. Not anymore - Warrick was looking at him, not shaking his head, but the disagreement was clear in his eyes. He wanted this. So why wasn't he saying so?

 

"Then what's the problem?" Nick was completely at a loss for understanding what the hell was going on with Warrick, and if that put a hint of pleading into his voice, then he couldn't help it. He didn't want to make Warrick feel guilty or obligated or anything, but if Warrick didn't want them to move in together, he owed Nick an explanation after everything they'd been through.

 

Warrick's pause this time wasn't reluctance so much as thoughtfulness, and Nick waited impatiently, trying not to fidget as he waited for Warrick to come up with the words he needed. There was a problem, and Nick had no idea what it was. Warrick did, and he was probably trying to figure out the easiest way to break it to Nick. Suddenly nervous, Nick swallowed, counseling himself to remain quiet. If Warrick was seeing someone else - someone besides Greg and Gil, that was - or if Warrick didn't care about him, he'd know, right? This couldn't have all been an act.

 

"Nick..." Warrick's arm was still stretched along the back of the couch, but not around Nick's shoulders anymore given his new position. Warrick did let his hand slip down to rest on Nick's shoulder, but it wasn't much comfort. "I've wanted this for as long as I can remember. But you..." Warrick sighed. "I wanna think that you have, too, but I know you haven't. I'm just the first guy you had sex with, Nick. I just want to be sure you're not confusing that with love."

 

Oh, Jesus Christ. Nick shifted even more, pulling away from Warrick's touch as he struggled to to contain his temper, knowing his face was reddening in frustration as veins stood out in his neck. "Dammit, Rick, I'm not some girl who fell in love with the guy who fucked her after the prom," he spat. He was tempted to get up and walk away, but he couldn't give up so soon.

 

Warrick was protesting that no, "I'm not saying that," and dammit, Nick knew that. He also knew that he was frustrated because maybe, just maybe, Warrick had a point.

 

"I know," he replied, defeated, and scrubbed a hand through his hair as he sagged back against the couch cushions. Warrick's arm was there, but Warrick didn't put his arm around him, and Nick didn't blame him. Not the way Nick was acting. "I just... I want this, Rick. I want us to live together. We practically do already and it's... man, it's great."

 

When he thought about how it had all begun, he understood Warrick's uncertainty. Nick had never said anything about being in love with Warrick or wanting it to be a long-term thing. He'd only wanted to experience what it was like to be with another man, and he wanted that man to be someone he liked and trusted. As far as Warrick had known, it had all boiled down to experimentation, and Nick's easy acceptance of Warrick's relationship with Greg and Gil didn't help matters - at least, when it came to convincing Warrick that he actually had any emotional investment in the relationship.

 

Ironically, Warrick would've probably been more agreeable to moving in if Nick had shown some jealousy, but Nick just wasn't a jealous man. He'd grown up in a large, loving family - loving when they weren't being bigoted and reminding him that he had to stay in the closet, anyway. And with Warrick and Greg and Gil, Nick had a family that, even though it was smaller, was just as loving, if not more. What point was there to being jealous when asking Warrick to give up two great guys would just make them unhappy and make work less pleasant?

 

"But is it what you want for the rest of your life?"

 

The question took Nick aback a little. Actually, a lot. He was talking about moving in and Warrick was talking about the rest of their lives. Maybe that was what moving in meant to Warrick, though, the gay equivalent of getting married or something. Maybe that was why he hadn't been ready to move in with Greg and Gil, because he wasn't sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with them, or just them. Maybe he'd still been holding out for Nick, even though he loved them, too. "I... right now? I don't know," he said honestly. "I just, the way things are now, I don't want anything to change. It feels... right. It feels like home."

 

Warrick studied him for a long time, an array of emotions shifting over his face. Nick swallowed nervously, hoping that Warrick believed him. "You've never lived with anyone besides your family or your frat buddies beside me. If we move in together, I want it to be because of me, not because it's comfortable. Safe."

 

Well, if that was the problem, Nick would clear it up real fast. He smiled, and took Warrick's hand again, because he knew they were going to be okay. "Just because you make me feel safe doesn't mean you are safe." They hadn't talked about it before, but Nick was going to tell Warrick just how not safe he was. "If I wanted safe I'd've stayed with my high school girlfriend. Not only are you a guy, but we're from completely different backgrounds, too."

 

Warrick bristled at that. "You mean I'm black and you're not."

 

That was something else they'd never talked about, but Nick could care less. He rolled his eyes, slightly amused by Warrick's defensiveness. Sure, he knew that Warrick's race and the racism he'd encountered during his life was nothing to sneeze at, but if Warrick thought that had anything to do with what Nick thought of him, then he hadn't been paying attention.

 

"Well, yeah, there's that, but that's not what I was talking about. I meant you're from Vegas, you know? Totally different lifestyle up here. Even if my parents did know I was with a guy and didn't freak out about it - which they would - I'd be safer with someone from the South who was more like the people we know." Nick paused pointedly. "And someone white, but that's a given. So, uh, I'm pretty sure I'm not with you just because you're 'safe'."

 

"What if it's because of how not safe I am, then? How do you know you're not just rebelling and looking for-"

 

"Dios, Warrick, shut the fuck up," Nick interrupted, and kissed him, hard. Once he was sure he'd sufficiently distracted Warrick with the kiss, he pulled back, panting, his hand fisted in Warrick's hair, holding Warrick as firmly as Warrick liked to hold his chin when he was saying something important. He stared into Warrick's darkened green eyes as he caught his breath, and kept his other hand in Warrick's. "I want to move in with you because I want to move in with you, okay? Yeah, you're the first guy I had sex with, but that's not a coincidence. I've loved you since before I ever fell in love with you and I'd want to live with you even if we weren't sleeping together."

 

Which begged the question as to why he'd never suggested it before, but as soon as he asked himself the question, he knew the answer. "And you know what? The only reason I didn't make it permanent when I stayed with you after Crane camped out in my attic was because I must've known I wanted to be more than friends with you, and it scared the shit out of me even if I didn't realize it. But now I do and man, why do you think we've been such good friends for so long? This-" Nick freed his hand to motion between them, "this's been coming for a long time, Rick. We just didn't have the balls to make it happen before now." We, not I, because Nick hadn't been the only one not to make a move. It wasn't like Warrick had approached him and been rejected. Nick might have played the part of ladies' man, but so had Warrick, and he was just as much to blame for delaying the inevitable as Nick had been.

 

"What about Greg?"

 

The abrupt change in subject took Nick by surprise, and he blinked. "What about Greg?"

 

"Are we going to move in together and then two, five, ten years down the road you're gonna decide you want to be with Greg instead of me? Or does moving in together mean you want us to be exclusive?"

 

Nick hadn't even thought about that. He'd just assumed that they'd maintain their relationship with Greg as it already was, developing it as they went along. "Do you want to be exclusive?"

 

Warrick sighed harshly. "I don't know. I feel like I should."

 

"But you don't want to." When Warrick shook his head, Nick smiled. "Hey, man, you're the one who told me that Greg and Gil taught you you could love more than one person at the same time. I already knew that, so-" Warrick frowned, looking confused, and Nick realized Warrick thought he meant in a relationship. "Big family," he explained. "I have lots of sisters and two brothers and I love them all, you know? We all love each other. Why's love gotta be different even if it's not blood?"

 

Warrick stared at him like he'd made some kind of revelation, and if Warrick hadn't looked at it that way before, maybe it was a revelation for him. Nick hoped so, hoped it would convince Warrick to say yes.

 

When no reply was immediately forthcoming, Nick pulled out his last shot. "But yeah. I want us to be exclusive." Warrick visibly fought a frown, his forehead creasing in lines of concern. Nick smiled gently and continued. "I want you, me, and Greg to be exclusive. Gil too if he ever comes back. Okay?" Warrick's expression cleared as understanding dawned, and he nodded, looking a little dazed. Nick reached up to touch his face. "It's not the same between me and them like it is between me and you, but just 'cause it's different doesn't mean it ain't as good. I like the thought of the four of us bein' a family, you know?"

 

"Yeah," Warrick said thoughtfully, smiling for the first time since they'd sat down. "So like, you an' me, and us an' Greg, and Gil too if he comes back?"

 

Nick nodded, finally relaxing. "Yeah. The two of us, and the two of them - I mean, if Gil comes back. And until he does, Greg'll be with us, long's he lets us be there for him." Warrick nodded, but Nick wasn't done. "And about the sex." For once, Nick didn't blush, but he didn't blush every time they talked about sex. Just when it was unexpected or something new. "The new stuff, I wanna do with you first. Greg and I haven't had sex yet." Technically, Warrick knew that, but it was good to say. "But when we do, I don't wanna do anything with him I haven't done with you." He'd felt that way ever since the third time Greg had kissed him, but it had never come up.

 

"You don't have to do that," Warrick protested, but Nick stopped him with a shake of his head.

 

"I know. I want to do that. I just... it's what I want." Part of the reason for wanting that was because Warrick had waited for him for so long, had been so good ot him for so long, and Nick had put him through so much waiting, been so close and hadn't hinted that there was anything he could do about it. That was only part of the reason, though, and even though it sounded like it, it wasn't a sense of obligation. Nick couldn't explain it, not really. Just that it felt right. "Besides," and Nick did blush this time, "you wear me out so much I don't think I'd have the energy for Greg, too."

 

Warrick chuckled, his already dark skin darkening a little more. Was Warrick blushing too? "I haven't worn you out in about a week," he pointed out, leaning closer and putting his hand on Nick's thigh near his crotch. Nick grinned; he knew what was coming next. "Why don't we change that - now." Warrick's voice lowered to that sexy almost-growl, and Nick shifted forward, bringing his crotch in contact with Warrick's hand. "Take advantage of this house while you still have it."

 

Between Warrick's hand on his cock and Warrick's warm breath on his cheek, Nick almost missed the deeper meaning underlying Warrick's suggestion. "You mean-"

 

"Yeah," Warrick grinned, absently stroking his thumb along Nick's groin. Nick swallowed and nodded, well aware that Warrick wasn't doing it on purpose. Warrick probably didn't even realize he was doing it. "Let's move in together."


	25. Chapter 16B

The bedroom was as dusty as the rest of the house, but that wasn't about to deter Nick from his goal. He had Warrick's body pressed against his and if the dust meant they sneezed a few times, it was worth not taking the time - and patience that Nick didn't have - to go somewhere else.

 

There was something convenient about the fact that Warrick rarely buttoned his shirts more than halfway. Nick didn't know why he did it - whether it was laziness or discomfort from a shirt being buttoned all the way up or if Warrick thought the added sex appeal made suspects more likely to confess, whatever - but whatever the reason, it made Nick's job a lot easier. He had half as many buttons to unbutton as Warrick, who'd only partially finished unbuttoning Nick's shirt when Nick started pushing Warrick's shirt off his shoulders.

 

"Not gonna make this easy for me, are you," Warrick commented, mock glaring as Nick trapped Warrick's arms behind his back in the sleeves of the shirt. Warrick had forgotten to unbutton his cuffs, which meant the shirt wasn't getting all the way off until Nick undid the cuffs or Warrick twisted to do it himself.

 

Nick just grinned. With no undershirt and Warrick's button-down around his arms, Warrick's chest was bare. Warrick had a good chest, a good body, actually, the kind of body a guy could only get if he worked out. All that sparring with Gil must've paid off, because Warrick's body looked great.

 

The thought of Gil only made Nick pause momentarily, but it did slow him down. There were these little sobering reminders every once in a while that Gil had left them, and it was them because Nick was a part of it. Maybe Gil hadn't thought he was leaving Nick specifically because they weren't intimately involved, but that didn't mean Gil hadn't left Nick high and dry at work, leaving him to pick up the slack while Gil was gone. The 'vacation time' he'd taken was open-ended, so none of them knew when Gil would be coming back; not even Catherine, who'd mentioned talking to him on the phone two nights before. It pissed Nick off, knowing that Gil was keeping in contact with Cath but not any of the three men in his life, especially the one who officially lived with him. But Nick refused to let that knowledge distract him for too long, because if he had a choice between griping about Gil and having sex with Warrick, he'd choose having sex with Warrick any day of the week.

 

For his part, Warrick had taken advantage of Nick's pause to get out of his shirt, succeeding in being the first one of them to be half-undressed. Not about to lag too far behind, Nick shouldered out of his own shirt and then pinned Warrick to the bed, bracing his elbows on either side of Warrick's head.

 

The kiss started out slow and calculated, growing deeper and hungrier as their hips thrust together. Breaking the kiss, Nick started to kiss down Warrick's neck, firm, sucking kisses that only hinted at Nick's plans for the other man. He kissed down Warrick's chest to his stomach, too impatient to pause for detours on the way to Warrick's groin. He'd almost gotten there once before, almost because it had been for all the wrong reasons. But this time, it was just about him and Warrick and desire and need, and nothing was going to stop him this time.

 

Except, temporarily, for Warrick's pants. The two of them struggled to get the jeans off together, tugging them off and then letting them fall on the floor. Nick nuzzled Warrick's cock through his boxers first, introducing himself to Warrick's size and scent and warmth, his heartrate increasing as it started to sink in just what he was going to do, for the first time, and that was when he heard Warrick's breathing change.

 

No longer the controlled breathing of a man simply being held by his lover, Warrick's breath was coming harsh and unsteady, his fingers combing through Nick's hair as he breathed through flared nostrils. Nick loved when Warrick got like this. It didn't happen often, because all they'd done was run-of-the-mill handjobs and frottage, and as good as that was, that wasn't this. This was actual sex, sex where two people had to trust each other because one of them was putting his cock in someone else's mouth that was full of teeth, the other because, well, he was letting someone put a cock in his mouth. Nick knew the end wasn't going to be graceful; he wasn't sure how he'd react when Warrick came in his mouth, but he did know he wouldn't be deepthroating or swallowing on the first try. Maybe not even the tenth. But that was okay, because Nick wasn't going anywhere, and neither was Warrick, and Nick was going to have plenty of chances to get it right.

 

The boxers came off next. Warrick was big - at least, bigger than Nick, which described pretty much every guy Nick had ever seen in a locker room. Warrick didn't mind; he'd never said anything about it, anyway. Still, Nick couldn't help but wonder if that meant it wouldn't be as good for Warrick when they got to the bigger stuff, like Warrick sucking him off or Nick fucking him. At the moment, though, he could relax, because this had nothing to do with his cock. Just his mouth and Warrick's cock, and hopefully he'd be able to remember the things he'd liked well enough to do them for Warrick.

 

They weren't going to use condoms. Not for this. Warrick had been a good friend far longer than he'd been a lover, and when he said that he was clean and so were Greg and Gil, Nick trusted him. Maybe it was foolish of him to trust in Greg and Gil just because Warrick did, but Nick had no reason not to trust them. And if trusting them turned out to be a mistake, well, he'd just have to live with it. Thing was, so would Warrick, and Nick was pretty damn sure they cared too much about Warrick to put him at risk by lying about something like that.

 

It shouldn't have been a surprise that Warrick's cock tasted as good as the rest of his body. Shouldn't have, but it was, and as many times as Nick had kissed Warrick, or sucked on his tongue, this was completely different, but in a same-better-different kind of way. There was a texture to Warrick's cock that his tongue didn't have, and the taste was subtly different, too. Stronger somehow, darker, more masculine. And there was nothing unmasculine about any part of Warrick's body.

 

The precome was fluid and weakly salty, and, apparently, not in great supply. Grasping the base of Warrick's cock, Nick licked at the head, pressing with the tip of his tongue to try to get more. Warrick seemed to like that, because he groaned, and Nick looked up for a second, his face hot at the thought of Warrick watching him do this. But Warrick's head was flat on a pillow, and from this angle, Nick couldn't tell if Warrick's eyes were opened or closed. Just as well, at least for his first time, because he was less self-conscious knowing that Warrick wasn't watching him. Maybe Warrick knew that, maybe he didn't, but either way, it was perfect.

 

It felt good to have a cock in his mouth. Better than he'd expected it to feel, actually. Warm and hard, the textured surface moving with his mouth when he moved, like jerking off, the hard flesh underneath staying firm and in place. The drop of precome that dripped from the head every once in a while was a nice surprise every time, that variety in taste as well as the knowledge that he was doing something right to get Warrick's body to react like this. And Warrick was still breathing hard, one hand tangled in Nick's hair, but he wasn't coming. Wasn't even showing any signs of coming. Nick had never lasted this long when he'd gotten a blowjob, so even though he was getting good feedback from Warrick, he started to wonder if he was doing something wrong.

 

At the head of the bed, Warrick panted, trailing his fingers through Nick's hair and looking down at him when he realized Nick had stopped. He hadn't meant to stop, not really, but he wanted to do more and he wasn't sure how to ask permission or even if he was supposed to. He knew that he'd want Warrick to let him know before he put any fingers in his ass, but he didn't know whether that would help the process or hurt it with Warrick.

 

Too embarassed to say anything out loud, Nick sucked Warrick's cock back into his mouth, keeping eye contact this time. He was more self-conscious than if he'd tried to say something, but at least this way, his voice wasn't squeaking or doing anything to embarass him further. Warrick regarded him calmly, almost thoughtfully, then smiled slightly to himself when Nick put his fingers on Warrick's balls, like he'd solved the puzzle. "Got lube?"

 

Answering required him to stop sucking Warrick's cock, but he just nodded first, clearing his throat before he spoke up. "Yeah," he said roughly, not quite trusting his voice, and nodded toward the nightstand on the far side of the bed. Warrick rolled to the side to get it, presenting Nick with a great view of Warrick's ass, and Nick wondered how weird it would be if he kissed Warrick's ass.

 

Warrick, however, had something else on his mind. "This all you got?" he asked, holding up the tub of petroleum jelly Nick kept in his nightstand. His face suddenly very hot, Nick nodded, praying Warrick wouldn't ask why that was all he had. Having to explain why he got too embarassed to buy lube but not condoms would just be too... embarassing. And it wasn't like he wasn't embarassed when he bought condoms, either. It was just that condoms were pretty... standard. Buying lube was just a line he hadn't been able to cross.

 

If it worked, it worked, and Warrick must have come to the same conclusion because he shrugged and rolled back into place. Nick took the tub and popped off the top, scooped out two fingerfulls and then studied Warrick.

 

He'd done this to himself plenty of times; that was pretty much the only reason he had the petroleum jelly to begin with. He'd never done it to someone else and he definitely hadn't had anyone else do it to him. This was a completely different angle and there he was, face-to-face with Warrick's asshole. It twitched while he was looking at it, and Nick frowned, trying to figure out how to proceed.

 

He knew, technically, that his own asshole was just as small. It never felt small, though, especially when he had three fingers inside. Deciding to just go with his instincts, Nick smeared substitute lube over the hole, biting back a grin as it twitched even more and somewhere far away, Warrick groaned.

 

Nick was tentative, but at the same time, he didn't want to tease. He wished he could feel how Warrick was feeling, be certain that he didn't do anything to hurt Warrick, because it wasn't like he had access to Warrick's brain to know what was going on with the nerve endings in Warrick's ass. It seemed unlogical, but Nick got the feeling that he'd be better off feeling his way through this than seeing it, because seeing wasn't helping him get up the courage to actually put a finger in Warrick. Warrick's hips were twitching on their own, and he seemed to be trying to control it, but not doing a very good job. So Nick put his free hand on Warrick's stomach while he pressed his fingertips more firmly against Warrick's hole, looking up to study Warrick's face as best as he could. A second later, two of his fingertips slipped inside, and Warrick clenched down hard.

 

"Okay?" he asked, not sure whether that was a reaction to pain or just his fingers being there. Warrick nodded, and Nick twisted his fingers a little, just to see how much give there was. After a few seconds, Warrick started to relax again, and Nick tried to relax too.

 

Nick's hand shook from the effort of staying in place as he maneuvered himself closer to Warrick's cock, trusting Warrick to speak if anything went wrong and himself to pay close attention to what was happening with Warrick's body. It was all about the two of them being synchronized, reading each other, and if it took all day, Nick was going to do this, and he was going to do it right.

 

"Fuck," Warrick muttered, and Nick froze for a moment, listening for any sign that Warrick was in pain. To the best of his knowledge, though, that had been a good exclamation, so Nick forged onward, closing his eyes this time as he licked up the shaft of Warrick's cock.

 

There was no feeling like it, really. Not just the way Warrick's cock felt under his tongue, the way it tasted, the way it smelled. It had everything to do with the fact that he had part of his body inside Warrick's ass, something no one else got to do, no one except Greg and Gil, at least. Nick found himself thinking how helpful it would be to have one of them here, telling him what Warrick liked, what felt good and what didn't, how to tell when he'd gone too far or not far enough. But that was the whole point of an intimate relationship, getting to know these little details about how to make each other feel good, and Nick was just going to have to feel it out, literally. As uncertain as he felt right now, he knew it would be worth it in the end, when he could slide inside Warrick without a single worry. That would be the day, all right. It would be bliss.

 

Even though he paused every time he felt Warrick clenched around his fingers, he was in to the base of his fingers almost before he realized it. He risked a glance up at Warrick, who was breathing even harder than before, and took his own deep breath before he took Warrick in his mouth again. He had to breath through his nose, he had to remember that, and he really had to stop drooling. It was hardly the most attractive thing he'd ever done, but hopefully Warrick wouldn't notice, would be too caught up in everything else that was going on to mind it.

 

One thing was for sure, though, and that was that Warrick liked to be fucked. After a few false starts and hesitant pauses, Nick got a steady rhythm going. Only a couple of inches at a time, of course, but it was something. His fingers moved in and out, and Warrick would clench, then relax, and Nick's fingers would slide back in again, moving easily. In, out, clench, relax, in, out, over and over again. After a few minutes Nick found he could do it and suck Warrick's cock at the same time, savoring the taste, the feel, the weight of Warrick's cock in his mouth, the sounds coming from Warrick's end of the bed. Warrick tried to stifle his groans most of the time but Nick heard a lot of them, enjoying the aborted moans as much as the ones that actually escaped Warrick's throat. Nick's throat was clenching in time with Warrick's ass, and it was weird but he knew that some day he'd have to see how far he could take this.

 

For now, though, it was definitely more than enough, because Warrick's breath was hitching like when he got close and Nick's cock was frustratingly hard, pressing firmly against Nick's jeans. Nick coordinated the movement of his hips with the motion of his mouth on Warrick's cock, delicious friction building up the desire and Nick knew it wasn't going to be long for either of them. The second he realized Warrick was going to come, he pulled his face away, slicking the fingers of his other hand to wrap around Warrick's cock. Warrick came with a loud groan, hips thrusting with each pump of Nick's fist, his free arm slung over his face. Nick had already taken his fingers out of Warrick's ass and was fumbling with the fly on his jeans, opening them just in time to pull his cock out and start stroking. When Warrick's hand wrapped around his, Nick let out his own groan and collapsed onto his back, taking pleasure for himself for the first time since they'd tumbled into bed.

 

Then Warrick was kissing him, covering Nick with his body, and Nick didn't freeze up, didn't freak out. He kissed back enthusiastically, avoiding Warrick's cock as carefully as Warrick was avoiding his, and rested a slick, trembling hand on Warrick's back, holding his lover in place. They were a sticky mess, but Nick liked it that way. In fact, he decided, it was his favorite way for them to be.


	26. Chapter 16C

  
Author's notes: While Gil is gone, Nick gets closer to Warrick and Greg. That doesn't mean any of them forgets about Gil, though.  


* * *

"What's this?"

 

They were back at the townhouse, standing at the entrance, and instead of unlocking the door like he usually did, Warrick handed the key to Nick. Sun glinted off the silver surface as Nick took it, turned it over in his hand. Warrick just smiled, and nodded at the key he'd handed over. "It's the reason we had to stop on the way over," he said informatively, "and why I got to your place after you this morning."

 

And suddenly, it made sense. Such a simple thing, really; he'd wondered why Warrick had wanted him to unlock the door when it would've been just as easy for Warrick to. Except Warrick wasn't just letting him do it this one time; Warrick was giving him a key to keep. Nick grinned, and attached the freshly-cut key to his keychain.

 

The significance of the moment wasn't lost on him, but Nick let it pass without a word or a kiss; a simple thank-you grin sufficed for the moment, and was held modestly in check for Greg's sake as they entered the townhouse together.

 

It was early in the afternoon, so Nick expected that they'd find Greg asleep. What he didn't expect was that Greg would be asleep at the kitchen table, his head resting on his folded arms. Nick entered the kitchen quietly, saying Greg's name as he put a hand on the younger man's shoulder so he wouldn't scare him. Greg didn't wake up, though, just stayed slumped over the table, his breath puffing out in near-silent sighs.

 

Nick didn't know how deep of a sleeper Greg really was. After all, he'd only been sharing a bed with Greg for a week, and more often than not, when he was awake, so was Greg. Still, it seemed like an uncomfortable position to have fallen asleep in, and Nick wasn't sure why Greg had fallen asleep there and then until he picked up Greg's cold cup of coffee and took a sniff.

 

"Someone had his coffee Irish this morning," he muttered, looking up to see Warrick's concerned frown. Warrick took the cup from him and smelled it briefly, nodding before he dumped the contents in the sink.

 

"Brandy," he surmised, and came back to the table to brush back Greg's hair with his fingers. Greg didn't stir.

 

"I thought Greg didn't drink," Nick commented, and Warrick nodded.

 

"He doesn't. Let's get 'im up to bed." Warrick shook Greg's shoulder lightly, and when Greg didn't wake up, Warrick took Greg's arms and wrapped them around his neck. "Gil does," he continued, picking Greg up as he talked, holding the younger man against his chest as he stood them up together. "Brandy." Warrick kept talking as he arranged Greg against him, and Nick just watched. Stared, actually, until he realized that maybe he should do something to help.

 

"Um, do you need-"

 

"I'm good," Warrick insisted, even though he was grunting slightly. He didn't take Greg upstairs or downstairs, but stayed on the same floor, and Nick followed him to one of the spare rooms. He'd only seen the spare bedrooms that first day when Greg had given him the grand tour, and they looked the same now as they had then, plainer and with less personality than Greg's and Gil's rooms, but still well-decorated and functional.

 

Greg didn't let go of Warrick when Warrick tried to put him to bed. He hung onto Warrick's neck, so Warrick just dropped into bed with him, and Nick joined them on Greg's other side.

 

Greg's voice woke Nick a few hours later. Still clinging to Warrick, Greg was murmuring, his voice hopeful and plaintive at the same time as he said Gil's name. Greg must have woken up, because Warrick was talking to him, soothing him. "I know, babe," he was saying, rubbing Greg's back with both hands. "But I'm here, and so's Nicky."

 

Even though his name was mentioned, Nick didn't really feel like part of the conversation. Greg was facing Warrick, holding onto him, talking directly to him, and Warrick knew what Gil meant to Greg better than Nick did. Greg pressed closer to Warrick then, making a funny noise that was a half-sigh, half-whimper as Warrick wrapped both arms more snugly around him.

 

And then Greg reached back, looking tentatively at Nick over his shoulder. Nick took his friend's hand and moved closer in response to the silent urging in Greg's eyes, blanketing Greg's bare back with his body. He'd taken his shirt off when he'd gotten into bed, and since Greg had just been wearing his boxers when they'd found him, he could feel the warmth of Greg's skin against his own, the uneven texture of the scars covering half of Greg's back against his chest.

 

The reminder of everything Greg had been through brought out a tender protectiveness in Nick, and he pressed a kiss to the back of Greg's neck, looking up when Warrick's hand left Greg's back to comb through Nick's hair. He met Warrick's eyes, knowing that his own looked bleary and tired. Warrick's eyes looked the same way.

 

"It'll be okay," Warrick soothed, addressing Greg even though he was still looking at Nick. Greg's quiet 'I know' was muffled against Warrick's chest, and Nick kissed Greg's neck again, then let out a sigh in Greg's sleep-ruffled hair. Gil's disappearance was starting to take its toll on them, especially on Greg. And Nick was realizing that even though Gil had made a mistake by leaving, at least he'd cared enough to make sure that Greg still had people he loved to take care of him while Gil was gone.


	27. Chapter 17A  Trial by Fire

  
Author's notes: When the LVPD loses one of their own, Nick has to put aside his personal feelings in order to lead the investigation. Some things, he learns, are easier said than done.  


* * *

Nick had to supervise that night, which meant politics and paperwork, two p-words Gil had always seemed oblivious to, but Nick was starting to wonder if it wasn't oblivion so much as blissful ignorance.

 

The only times Gil had seemed aware of politics and paperwork was when it affected Nick directly; he was sure there had been instances with his other coworkers, since Gil couldn't have been favoring just him all these years, but Nick remembered a few specific instances where they'd come into play for Nick as a CSI; politics when Kristy had been killed after Nick had spent the day with her - Gil had told him not to turn himself in, to just lay low until they approached him about the evidence putting him at the scene - and paperwork when Gil had recommended him for the promotion that had ended up being cut so Greg could get his DNA biorobot.

 

It was kind of surprising to remember that Gil had gone to bat for him back then when he could have very easily been Kristy's murderer; not that Nick would ever kill anyone, but how was Gil supposed to know that? What proof of Nick's benevolence had Gil ever had to suggest that Gil should put his professional reputation on the line by telling Nick to keep his mouth shut about his relationship with Kristy? Not as surprising, but certainly still not entirely characteristic of Gil, was the fact that he'd gotten Nick's recommendation letter in on time.

 

It was tempting to think that Gil's ineptitude in completing paperwork on time was exaggerated, but given how often Catherine lied about deadlines to give Gil a "buffer time" in order to get things accomplished in time - and how often Gil ended up actually needing those buffer times - Nick knew it wasn't anything as simple as exaggeration. Gil lacked certain skills in his supervisory position, but even so, his abilities outweighed his deficiencies, and even as hard as Ecklie had tried, Gil had never gotten fired or even demoted. Nick guessed it was like the way Greg used to be in the lab with his loud music and unconventional appearance - he was the best of the best at what he did, and since his being there helped them solve crimes, his job security remained intact.

 

Not knowing how long Gil would be gone and, therefore, how long he'd be acting as supervisor on Catherine's nights off, this time around it felt like Nick had been supervising for longer than he had the last time, when Gil had been gone for two weeks at the conference in San Antonio. It wasn't that Nick was looking for a light at the end of the tunnel; he didn't mind supervising so much, it was just that it made him think about how long Gil had been gone and how depressed Greg was getting and how pissed it made Warrick when he saw how depressed Greg was.

 

Nick tried to remember if Greg had acted this way when Gil had gone to San Antonio, but other than their fight on the day Gil had come back, Nick couldn't say for sure that Greg's behavior had been any different than it had been during the months before.

 

Had Gil been there today, Nick would have been home with Warrick instead of having to work late. It was strange; Nick wasn't sure whether to be pissed at yet another example of how Gil's leaving had affected them, or to want to tell Greg to be more tolerant of Gil getting home late because supervisors did have a lot to do. But even with all he had to do, and the new appreciation Nick had for the responsibilities of the position, he hadn't stayed as late as Gil tended to do, or had tended to do when he'd been here, and he never left for work as early as he'd seen Gil leave.

 

Yes, Gil had more work to do as a supervisor, but even though Nick could see it from his point of view, he knew, too, that Gil had been putting in more hours than was really required. It didn't make any sense; why would Gil want to spend so much time at work when he had Greg at home, a lover who obviously cared about him a great deal and gone to such lengths to show Gil his attraction. Didn't Gil see how lucky he was to have Greg? Why wouldn't he want to take advantage of every possible moment they could share together?

 

Except that he knew from experience - Greg's experience - that Gil hadn't been sure of his place in Greg's life from the beginning. When Warrick had become a part of Greg's life, Gil had done the same thing he'd done now; he'd run away. He hadn't disappeared almost completely the way he had this time, but Nick was sure that Gil's reasons for leaving were the same. And Gil's uncertainty about whether or not Greg really wanted to be with him was probably the reason he spent so much time at work instead of being home as often as he could; he probably hadn't wanted to get used to being a part of Greg's life, hadn't wanted to fall in love and get domestic only to find out that Greg didn't want to be with him anymore. If only there was some way to go back and stop Gil before he left, show Gil just how much Greg loved him; but there wasn't.

 

And that was Nick's dilemma, the one he struggled with every day. He didn't know whether to be mad at Gil for abandoning them or feel sorry for Gil because Gil didn't see what an important part of their lives he was. Nick had no idea how he was going to react when and if Gil returned. All he knew was that it would be better for all of them if Gil came back sooner rather than later.

 

Nick hadn't figured everything out by the time he packed up the paperwork, but he'd come to the conclusion that he wanted to give Gil the benefit of the doubt. That meant not being mad at the guy for being clueless about the people who cared about him, and that meant treating Gil's absence like a roadblock in their relationship, but not a burned bridge. It was probably easier for Nick to see it that way since he wasn't as much a part of the relationship with Gil as Greg and Warrick were; it probably hurt them more, and when the time came, he'd have to be there for them just as much as he would be there for Gil.

 

Nick knew it couldn't be any other way, not for him. Understanding what drove people to act the way they did had always been a mixed blessing and curse for Nick; and the need to understand was what made so many of the cases they worked frustrating. Fortunately, Gil wasn't some apathetic murderer or cruel molester that Nick couldn't understand; Gil was just a guy who wanted to be loved but didn't think he stood a chance against younger guys who were maybe more in shape than he was, whose hair wasn't graying and whose confidence was still intact.

 

When he looked at it from Gil's point of view, it made sense, and it made Nick all the more determined to find Gil and bring him back - and not just for Greg, as Nick had been thinking before. Gil deserved to be happy just as much as the rest of them, and if he didn't know how to be happy or accept the happiness that was offered him, Nick would just have to get Greg and Warrick to show him how.

 

So Nick headed home newly determined to accelerate their search for Gil again, and to convince Greg and Warrick that Gil hadn't been trying to hurt them; he'd just been trying to protect himself from hurt. Once they understood that, they could all be on board, and they would figure out how to convince Gil that they weren't going to leave him.

 

***

 

Both cars were in the driveway, but Warrick and Greg weren't in the kitchen or the living room. Judging from the mess in the kitchen, they'd already had breakfast. It was early in the afternoon, so they'd probably gotten tired waiting up for Nick, and gone up to bed. Nick grabbed a quick breakfast for himself and then cleaned up, putting everything in order before he headed up to join Warrick and Greg in bed.

 

He tried Greg's room first, and found that he'd been right about one thing; Warrick and Greg were in bed. As it turned out, though, he'd been wrong about what they were doing. Instead of sleeping, they were fucking.

 

The first thing he saw when he walked into the bedroom was Warrick's broad, dark back, his head bowed forward where Nick couldn't see, Warrick's legs slightly spread as he held himself up on his knees. They must have just been getting started, because Warrick wasn't moving, and neither man was doing anything more audible than breathing heavily, which also explained why Nick hadn't heard anything before he'd opened the door.

 

He could only assume that Greg was the other person in the bed, and as Nick rounded the corner of the room, his assumption was confirmed. Nick's eyes were drawn to Warrick's hands on Greg's hips, the way his fingers pressed down firmly, holding Greg still and in place. Nick had been hard the moment he'd seen Warrick's naked backside, but seeing how intimately close the two were, Nick got impossibly harder. Greg's ass was flush against Warrick's groin, skin right against skin, and that close Warrick had to be buried deep inside Greg, and if the look on Greg's face was any indication, it had to feel incredible.

 

The surprise of seeing the two of them like this was more than pleasant, so much so that Nick was only aware of how turned on he was. He hadn't quite gotten around to wondering if he should leave them alone instead of staring when Greg noticed him, and shifted on his elbows to offer Nick a strained but honest smile. Warrick noticed the motion and turned to see what Greg was looking at, and the moment he saw Nick, he stiffened a little.

 

"It's just me," he hurried to reassure Warrick, even though he didn't know why Warrick would think it was anyone else. Then again, he had shown up somewhat unexpectedly, and he doubted that Warrick would be in this position if he expected Nick to be there. It wasn't something they'd discussed, threesomes or even voyeurism, and even though Greg seemed pretty comfortable with Nick's presence, Nick didn't know how Warrick felt about being watched. They never really stopped to watch each other when they were in bed, they just got down to the sex and enjoyed it. Not that watching couldn't be enjoyable, but they just hadn't done it and Nick didn't know if Warrick wanted to be watched. "It's cool, I'll leave you two alone," he offered, all ready to leave the room and chill out downstairs or jerk off in the shower if they didn't want to be bothered.

 

"You don't have to go if you don't want." Nick wasn't surprised when Greg was the one who spoke up. Greg was silent for a moment then, bowing his head between his arms before he lifted his head again and looked at Warrick over his shoulder. "Right?"

 

Warrick looked uncomfortable, probably torn between letting Nick watch and asking Nick to leave, but he ended up doing something Nick hadn't even considered - he started to pull out. A second later, Greg's hand slapped down on Warrick's hip. "Don't even think about it."

 

Nick stifled a chuckle, trying to keep a straight face because he didn't want to make Warrick more uncomfortable than he already was. Only he might not be as uncomfortable as he'd been, because Greg was moving them, getting Warrick to kneel up and turn around until he was sitting on his butt, his back against the headboard, Greg in his lap - firmly in his lap, actually.

 

Warrick didn't seem to know what to say, and even though Greg was the one running the show, he wasn't saying anything, either. He was studying Nick's face, instead, and Nick was trying not to let his gaze drop to Greg's cock. They hadn't even talked about this, he couldn't just climb into bed and see if Greg tasted as good as Warrick. So he tried joking instead, even as he hoped it really would be taken as a joke and not that Nick was offended. "So I work late one time and you guys don't even wait for me?"

 

Warrick seemed uncertain, but Greg just looked amused. "See, Warrick, I told you we should've called him at work." Greg grinned at Warrick first, then Nick, making it clear that he knew it was just a joke. "You can join us now, though."

 

Nick couldn't think of a better plan. He stripped off his shirt and dress pants - they seemed more appropriate to wear when he was supervising - and climbed into bed in just his boxers, his skin flushed self-consciously even though they'd been in bed together before, with their shirts off, even. But this was the first time he'd seen Greg completely naked, and more importantly, it was the first time he'd been in the presence of two men when one of the men had his cock in the other man's ass. But he guessed if he was going to be having threesomes with Warrick and Greg, that was something he'd have to get used to. Hell, it was something he wanted to get used to.

 

He almost asked if this was something they'd done with Gil, but he was afraid that would ruin the mood, what with Gil being gone and everything. He heard Greg ask if he liked what he was seeing, but Nick was too distracted by his thoughts to be embarrassed. Instead, he looked up from where he'd been staring at Greg's cock, trying to push out of his mind the question of what Gil would do next if he were the one in Nick's place. Later, after they'd successfully had their first threesome and Nick had convinced them to give Gil the benefit of the doubt, maybe Nick would ask, but right now, he didn't want to do or say anything that would make this stop.

 

"I do," he confirmed with a grin, and awkwardly lifted his hand to put it on Greg's thigh. He was all for whatever they were going to do, but he still felt tentative with Greg, since all they'd done was kiss. Hot kisses that made him breathless, but it was nothing compared to this, to total nudity with Warrick inside Greg as they spoke. "I liked what I saw when I walked in, too."

 

It seemed to take a few seconds for Warrick realize what Nick was saying, but Nick saw the moment it happened because Warrick's skin flushed, a self-aware smile tugging at his lips. Nick couldn't think of a better way to make Warrick feel comfortable than to kiss him, so he did, tightening his hand on Greg's thigh as he leaned in. He felt Greg shift and attributed Warrick's moan to that movement; to test his theory, he slid his hand up even higher, tracking the chain reaction of his touch to Greg's reaction and finally, to how it affected Warrick.

 

The hand-up-the-thigh was a move Nick had used on countless women, but instead of encountering warm wetness that he could easily slide his fingers into, Nick's fingers cupped Greg's balls. He was still kissing Warrick, but his attention was as much on Greg as it was on Warrick.

 

Greg moaned appreciatively, leaning back against Warrick's chest. When Nick opened his eyes, he could see Greg half-watching him, Greg's eyes opened only partially as his mouth opened and his breath hitched. Nick couldn't resist that look so he abandoned Warrick's lips for a moment, pressing his mouth to Greg's as he moved hand even lower, feeling the tight stretch of skin where Warrick's cock penetrated Greg. A simple brush of his fingers lower, and Nick was touching the base of Warrick's cock, lower and Warrick's balls were warm and heavy in his hand.

 

Now he was kissing Greg and touching Warrick, Warrick's breath moist and warm against his neck. Warrick shifted and Greg moaned, reaching up suddenly to twist his fingers into Nick's hair, tugging and holding him close. Nick broke away so he could look at Greg's face and then Warrick's, watching them both as he slid a finger down between Warrick's balls, down to his hole, feeling it twitch and tighten. Nick stroked gently, rhythmically, and Warrick started to move with him, pressing up with his hips and Greg's head fell back, resting on Warrick's shoulder.

 

In a way, Nick was just experimenting, seeing what his touch was doing to them, exploring the dynamics of touching two lovers at once. He was also trying to make them both feel good, because, after all, sex was supposed to feel good.

 

If either of them was surprised at how bold Nick was being, they didn't show it. Hell, if Nick hadn't been as turned on as he was, he probably would've been surprised, too. He knew he'd be blushing later thinking about it, but right now, all he could think about was getting as much from the experience as he could.

 

He loved watching them. Both at the same time or looking from one to the other, the looks on their faces, the subtle rise and fall of Greg's body above Warrick's. His hand still in Nick's hair, Greg twisted back to kiss Warrick, lips pressing and crushing together. Nick was fascinated.

 

Then Greg reached back and wound his arms around Warrick's neck as they kissed, and brought his legs up, knees bent as he braced himself on the bed with both feet. Nick noticed, much to his relief, that Warrick no longer seemed as self-conscious as he'd been before, and he moved under Greg, gripping Greg's hips with both hands, holding the younger man in place as he started to thrust gently.

 

Nick spotted the lube on the bedside table and reached for it, drizzling some onto his fingers. He moved carefully, not wanting to interrupt the kiss as he dropped to his knees between Warrick's outstretched legs, but kept touching them so that neither of them would be jolted out of the kiss by an unexpected touch.

 

He didn't feel left out just because he wasn't participating in the kiss; he had other plans. His fingers at Warrick's ass again, slipping carefully inside this time, letting the lube ease the way. As Warrick clenched around his fingers, he licked up the center of Warrick's balls, closing his eyes at the thick, musky scent, moaning at the taste that was pure Warrick. Greg tasted just as good, different but still good, his scent not as strong but just as distinctive.

 

The kiss above him continued, louder than before, turning sloppy and slurpy. Nick joined in as he licked up the underside of Greg's cock, smacking his lips against the warm, hard flesh, fingers fucking in and out of Warrick's ass. Nick was absolutely in heaven, touching and tasting both men at once, not even thinking about his own erection. Warrick echoed his movements, rocking his hips with each thrust of Nick's fingers, picking Greg up by his hips and then pulling him back down. Skin slapped against skin and Nick looked up, meeting Warrick's eyes, his cock throbbing at the way Warrick licked his lips and kept eye contact. The kiss had stopped by now, and if Greg felt as overwhelmed as he looked, Nick knew why. It seemed to be all Greg could do to hold himself up, caught between Warrick's cock and Nick's mouth. Nick loved that they were doing this for Greg, that he was a part of it, and he looked down again, refocusing his efforts on Greg's cock in his mouth.

 

The great thing about having two hands was that he only needed one for fucking Warrick, and he could touch Greg with the other. Nick was immensely glad that Greg hadn't let Warrick pull out and end the fuck, no matter how recently they'd started when Nick had walked in. It was worth the few moments of awkwardness at the beginning because Nick was into it now, feeling confident in his place at Greg's cock. He'd wondered for a while when he'd eventually end up in this position, but he'd never thought that the first time, Warrick would be there, too. And Warrick being there just made it that much better.

 

Greg's balls were smooth and weighty in Nick's palm, rolling in their sack with each shift of Nick's hand. Above him, Greg's breath was hitching, and he was moaning now, "God" and "Yes" and "OhgodNick, Warrick, please Nicky..." Greg was more coherent than Warrick ever was, using actual words instead of just sounds, thrusting up into Nick's mouth and Nick could only imagine that Warrick's cock was hitting Greg's prostate each time. Nick didn't know who he wanted to be more, Greg or Warrick, or maybe both, and he knew one day he'd have to get them to return the favor on him. But that was later and this was now, Greg's cock in his mouth, Greg's moans needy and less and less coherent.

 

Nick could feel him getting closer and almost didn't pull away in time, Greg's come splashing the side of his face and neck. Nick gave a husky laugh, balancing himself carefully as Greg's balls tightened in his palm and Warrick clenched around his fingers, hard, probably the way Greg's ass was clenching around Warrick. God, it had been so long since he'd fucked someone, and all he wanted right now was to have his cock inside Warrick. Not that he was going to interrupt when Greg was shaking with aftershocks, his skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, his feet pushing down hard on Nick's back. Nick was sure Greg didn't even know he was doing it, but it didn't feel all that good so Nick extracted himself slowly, careful not to hurt either Warrick or Greg as he pulled his hands and fingers away and slipped out from under Greg's confining legs.

 

When he looked up again, Greg looked completely relaxed; collapsed, more like, against Warrick's chest, his breathing steady and slow. Probably ready to pass out, Nick thought with a sympathetic smile, the way Nick usually liked to do right after sex.

 

Nick knew what Warrick's face looked like after sex, and he could tell that even though Greg had come, Warrick hadn't. Nick wanted to help out with that, but he didn't know how when fucking Greg hadn't taken care of it and Greg didn't seem in any hurry to get out of Warrick's lap.

 

The next time Nick opened his eyes, they fell to the dial on his watch, and he saw that it was more than an hour after he'd first stepped into the room. He must have fallen asleep for a little while, because they couldn't have spent that long in bed. He looked up to see Warrick's head tilted against Greg's, the two of them with their eyes closed, breathing steadily, chests rising and falling together. Nick smiled sleepily and pushed up onto his elbows, rubbing his face against his shoulder to get some of the scratchy dried come off his skin. On second thought, he got up and off the bed and went to the bathroom, washing his face off in one of the elegant sinks. Everything about the master bathroom looked expensive, but what was more attractive was just how luxurious everything was. Nick couldn't wait to try out the shower with Warrick and maybe Greg, and hey, maybe now would be his chance because Warrick was awake and he probably had to clean up, too.

 

"Hey." Warrick's voice was deep and thick, more than usual, sex-roughened. Nick grinned, nostrils flaring, and rested his hip against the sink as Warrick walked closer. "You okay?"

 

"Better than okay. Just a little messy," he assured Warrick with a teasing smile, glancing pointedly at Warrick's cock, still hard and slick with lube. Nick licked his lips and looked back up at Warrick, wiping his hands off on the towel hung by the sink. "Looks like you are, too."

 

"Is that an invitation, Mr. Stokes?" he asked, and before Nick could answer, Warrick was hauling him into the shower. Nick laughed, not resisting, but he protested Warrick's move to turn the shower on.

 

"I'm a little overdressed," he reminded his lover, and peeled off his boxers, tossing them on the floor of the bathroom. "There," he said, satisfied, and reached over to turn on the water he'd stopped Warrick from touching a second ago. "Where's Greg?"

 

"Ah, passed out," Warrick informed him casually, and reached for the soap, lathering it up on Nick's chest instead of his own. Nick didn't complain; in fact, he leaned back against the shower wall for support, and surrendered himself to Warrick's ministrations. This was the kind of thing he could get used to; a steady, strong stream of water pulsing down on both of them, Warrick's hands on him, the heady scent of arousal mingling with the clean smell of the shower. "If he gets up he'll join us, if not..." Warrick paused, and grinned. "It's just you and me."

 

***

 

A fantastic blowjob and not nearly enough hours of sleep later, Nick was rudely awakened by the demanding ring of his cellphone. He ignored it the first time; ten full rings of annoyed ignoring, but he was determined to let whoever it was realize that he was on the shower, or away from his phone, or in bed with the two hottest guys in Vegas - probably not the conclusion they'd come to first, if they obeyed the laws of Occam's Razor - but when the phone rang a third and then a fourth time, Nick groaned and rolled reluctantly out of bed.

 

Whoever it was decided to stop calling after the fourth, which was just convenient, wasn't it, but there was a new message by the time Nick picked up his phone from where he'd discarded it with his pants. He recognized the number of the crime lab, which meant that someone had called from there instead of using their cell, and it irked him even more that he wouldn't know who was calling until he listened to the voice mail.

 

Not that he had any new information after he'd checked his voice mail. All he knew was that they said it was urgent that he come into work as soon as possible, and Nick sighed, wondering if this was one of the new responsibilities that came with being supervisor. He had to supervise again tonight, which he didn't mind all that much, but did they really have to drag him out of bed so early?

 

He eventually noticed that a bleary-eyed Greg was sitting next to a bleary-eyed Warrick, both of them staring at him. "It's nothing," he said, and picked up his dress pants, which were sadly wrinkled. Damn. He'd have to go to Warrick's place for some pants that were actually presentable, and didn't look like they'd been crumpled next to the bed all night - accurate, but inappropriate for a supervisor. "I got called in early."

 

Greg closed his eyes and flopped back onto the bed, tugging the blankets over his face. Warrick got up, though, rubbing at his face, and moved slowly toward Nick like he was moving through water. "I'll iron these," he offered, in a demanding sort of way, and took the pants from Nick. "Go wash up and then get a clean shirt. One that looks like it's yours."

 

Nick wasn't sure how he was going to do that, since Greg's shirts were either dark and dramatic or bright and colorful, while Warrick's shirts tended to be too broad in the shoulders and chest for Nick to pull off. It didn't matter, though; he was pretty sure he had a fresh shirt in the car, and maybe he could grab his crime scene camera, too, and grab a shot of Warrick ironing. The thought made him snicker, but he knew he couldn't actually do it, especially if he had a half roll of crime scene pictures already on the camera. At the moment, he couldn't actually remember, but it was one of those half-thoughts he knew he was never going to go through with. Not with a camera that belonged to the crime lab, anyway.

 

A half hour later, he'd called the lab to let them know he'd gotten the message and was on the way. He was dressed, almost, his shirt mostly unbuttoned as he grabbed a bite to eat before he rushed out of there.

 

"Hang on," Warrick said, and Nick stopped in his tracks, wondering what he'd forgotten. He was in the process of buttoning up his shirt, a task Warrick took over, grinning once Nick relinquished control of the shirt by letting his arms fall by his sides. "Good boy," he muttered, and Nick grinned, inexplicably pleased by the comment. Warrick finished buttoning up his shirt, smoothed out the collar, and patted Nick's cheek. "You take orders so well, sweetie," he grinned, taking on that mocking tone they used when they used endearments like that. Because they were two manly men, and they couldn't really call each other names like 'sweetie'. Nick smirked.

 

"Maybe you should be the boss instead of me," he suggested, only half joking. They both knew why he was the appointed supervisor - mainly because making Warrick supervisor was like sanding against the grain - but Nick was confident that Warrick knew what he was doing better than Nick.

 

Whether Warrick agreed or not, he had that mischievous look in his eyes, the one Nick swore he must've gotten from pre-explosion Greg. "Oh, I'll be the boss of you," he growled playfully, and grabbed Nick's chin - lightly, of course, since it wouldn't do for Warrick to put any marks on him when he was on his way to work. For his part, Nick was thrilled, both by the playful tenor of the conversation and the thought of Warrick wanting to be his 'boss'. He had no idea what that would actually entail, but only good things could come of Warrick being in charge, at least in the bedroom. In the crime lab, now, that was a different story. Which reminded Nick that he had places to be.

 

"Damn, I gotta go," he said regretfully, and stole a rushed kiss from Warrick's lips. He wanted to linger more than anything, but he knew he couldn't, not now. Later... there would be time for this later. "Dammit," he muttered again as he headed out the door, tossing Warrick a wave over his shoulder. It was still light out. That was just wrong.

 

Why did they need him to come in so early, anyway?


	28. Chapter 17B&C

The lab was chaotic and crowded when Nick got there, and if he hadn't worked swing shift for all those months, he might have thought it was just because of the shift. But it wasn't just CSIs and lab techs filling the hallways; there were all kinds of uniforms, mostly cops, only some of whom Nick recognized.

 

Sara's familiar face was a sight for sore eyes. "Hey, what's goin' on here?" he asked, matching her stride as they moved through the corridors together. "Is the entire LVPD in the crime lab?" Usually the cops stayed in the station, a separate building that was about a five minute drive from the crime lab. There were too many cops in the lab for it to be a coincidence.

 

"Only about half," Sara smirked, but Nick could tell her heart wasn't in it. "Car chase gone bad."

 

He should have listened to the news on the way to work, but it hadn't occurred to him. At least Sara knew what was going on. "Accident? Any casualties?"

 

Sara stopped short, just before the door to Nick's borrowed office. "Not an accident. Shootout. One of the guys - Officer Bell - he got shot."

 

Nick was silent as he went through the motions of opening the office door, shooing Sara inside and closing the door against the chaos outside. Getting shot by a suspect was one of the biggest risks of being a cop in the field, something Nick had fortunately never experienced when he'd been a cop in Texas. He'd never faced any real danger until he'd become a CSI. As for Bell, the name sounded vaguely familiar, and while Nick couldn't recall ever hearing anything favorable about the officer, the guy didn't have a bad reputation, either, and that was more telling than the former. "Is he gonna make it?"

 

Sara shook her head stiffly. "DOA."

 

"Damn." No wonder the lab was in chaos - the department wanted to know who'd killed one of their own, and they wanted to know now. Ballistics was probably overwhelmed, maybe Bobby had even been called in early. It suddenly hit Nick that since it was Catherine's second night off, he was responsible for supervising the coming investigation, at least when shifts switched to graveyard in several hours. Until then, Nick would have to locate the supervisor of swing shift and find out where he was needed. "So that's why they called you in too."

 

"Actually, no."

 

Nick frowned in confusion, cocking his head at Sara. Had they called her in for some other reason, then?

 

"I heard it on my police scanner. Figured they'd need all hands on deck."

 

That actually made more sense. Nick smiled, and wondered if it would be the last time he'd get a chance to do so after he walked out that door and into the fray. "Good to have you on board."

 

***

 

"Nick," Warrick grumbled, and pushed at Nick's face with his hand. He wasn't doing it on purpose, or at least, he wasn't doing it totally consciously. Nick rolled away and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing at his eyes as Warrick continued. "Are we gonna get any sleep today?"

 

Nick shrugged, even though Warrick couldn't see him, and dropped his head between his shoulders, slouching forward as he rubbed at his temples. "Sorry," he muttered. He'd finished his second triple shift in a row at the crime lab two hours before, getting to Warrick's just in time to wake him up from the sleep he'd barely started to get. Greg was in the guest room for some reason, but Nick had been too tired to ask about it.

 

As tired as he was, though, he hadn't gotten any sleep. Not really. He'd tossed and turned instead of falling asleep like he usually did, and it was keeping Warrick from sleeping, too.

 

Two strong hands on his shoulders made him sigh, and he slumped forward even more, letting his chin rest against his chest. Even on a frustrating day for both of them, Warrick found a way to comfort him instead of letting it get between them. "It's the case, isn't it."

 

Nick nodded. The case wasn't hard for him in the way child abuse cases were, but it still hit close to home because of his past as a cop, especially given the new developments. "Took 'em two days to find the bullet that went through Bell."

 

All three shifts had been scouring the crime scene, employing as much manpower as possible to find Bell's killer instead of keeping the case to one shift like they did with civilian victims. Nick didn't particularly like that one man's murder was deemed more important than another's just because he wore a certain uniform, but there was nothing he could do about it and besides, it wasn't like he hadn't been exposed to the hierarchy before. Not only had that hierarchy been largely responsible for Gil and Warrick finding Nick in time when he'd been kidnapped, they also had to take into account the location of Bell's crime scene.

 

It wasn't a private home or any other area that could easily be cut off from the public. In addition to the pressure coming from the DA's office to close the case, they had to consider the fact that a lot of civilians traversed those roads on a daily basis. That meant they had to hurry up and solve the crime so that the community could get back to their daily living.

 

Greg had been one of the team members who'd spent a lot of time combing through the miles-long crime scene looking for evidence. Greg had, in fact, logged a good deal of evidence, but he hadn't been the one to find the bullet that'd killed Bell. The first bullet, the one in Bell's vest, had been easy to find; the second one, the one that had killed him, had been a through and through, which made it a lot harder to find. One of the CSIs on day shift had found the bullet a few hours before Nick had left, around the time he would've clocked out if he'd only done a double.

 

"The bullet was stripped," Nick continued, remembering the grim look on Bobby's face as he'd told them he couldn't tell them which gun had shot the bullet. It had been a huge disappointment, and put them under even more pressure to solve the case. Somehow. "We went back to the scene to try to recreate it, but we're gonna need lasers." Nick sighed. "We gotta wait till it's dark again, and then... then we'll figure out who it is. We got two suspects-"

 

"Stop right now," Warrick said quietly, and Nick froze. Warrick's hands were still soothingly kneading his shoulders, but Nick felt anything but soothed. The tone of Warrick's voice reminded him that he'd been discussing the details of a case with his lover - a very sensitive case that he'd specifically reminded Hodges and Wendy not to talk about with anyone.

 

Was he getting too comfortable with Warrick?

 

Before the thought fully formed, Warrick's arms crossed down over his chest, pulling Nick more firmly into his lap. "We're not gonna talk about this anymore, okay?"

 

Nick nodded without looking at Warrick, concerned with how easily he'd discussed what should have been confidential. If Warrick hadn't said anything, he would've announced that Jim and Sophia were their suspects - and that could get him in a whole lot of trouble.

 

When he'd first considered the impact of his relationship with Warrick on his work life, he'd never considered anything like this - like how easy it would be to compromise an investigation because it was so easy to talk to Warrick, because they talked about everything. It would've been one thing if they'd been working the same case, but they weren't. Nick shouldn't have been discussing Bell's case in as much detail as he had, not with Warrick or with anyone else.

 

He broke away from Warrick's embrace, escaping the comfort that was being offered. Warrick shouldn't be comforting him for such a slipup. If Internal Affairs had any idea what he'd almost said, he'd probably lose his job. "Nick, it's okay."

 

"No it's not," he snapped, and turned his head toward Warrick without looking. "It's not okay. None of this is okay. This sucks." It wasn't the most sophisticated analysis of the situation, but it was how he felt, and besides, he was too damn tired to come up with anything much more intelligent than he'd already said.

 

"Yeah, it does." Warrick was behind him again, wrapping him in another hug. Nick struggled against the instinct to pull away, his body resisting the reluctance of his mind to accept Warrick's comfort. He was angry at himself for having spoken so easily, for forgetting about the discretion that was such an important aspect of his job. He found himself starting to relax, though, as Warrick held him close, and rocked them both, swaying back and forth a little as they stood there. "Your case is on hold till it's dark, my case..." Warrick sighed, and Nick felt him shake his head. "The case I'm working, it looks like the kid got shot for his bike."

 

It made him feel a little better that Warrick was talking about his own case, but it still didn't change what he'd almost said. Nevertheless, Nick turned around in Warrick's arms, slipping his own arms around Warrick's waist as he looked up at his partner. "Damn," he muttered, and Warrick nodded.

 

"Yeah." Warrick looked troubled, and Nick didn't think it had anything to do with the case. He didn't say anything, though, just rubbed his hands up and down Warrick's back the way Warrick was doing for him. No pressure, just comfort. "Nick, when they... when we couldn't find you..."

 

"Shut up," Nick whispered sharply. He didn't need Warrick to tell him what he already knew - that Warrick had been scared, afraid he'd never see Nick again, never get to tell him how he really felt. Nick knew all that, and he couldn't feel guiltier for having put Warrick through that. It was, however, a blessing that it had been him instead of Warrick. "I'm just glad you're not the one who lost that coin toss."

 

The comment came out before he thought about the effect it would have on Warrick. As guilty as he felt for having made Warrick watch him struggle for his own life, Warrick had to feel twice as guilty for having chosen the other crime scene. Warrick had to feel responsible for putting Nick in that position, even though it wasn't Warrick's fault any more than it was Nick's. The guilt, survivor's guilt and everything else, wasn't logical, but none of their reactions to what had happened had anything to do with logic. That had taken a long time for Nick to understand, but he did now. He also knew he'd said the wrong thing.

 

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, sincerely, and tentatively looked up at his partner. Warrick was smiling sadly as he met Nick's gaze, and brought his hands up to frame Nick's face. Nick swallowed hard, but held Warrick's gaze.

 

"No," Warrick denied. He stroked Nick's cheekbones with his fingers, and Nick closed his eyes with an exhausted sigh. The events last several months - almost the last year - were weighing heavily on his shoulders, and the conversation was bringing everything full circle back to when he'd been kidnapped. It was almost too much. "Just - thank you for letting me take care of you."

 

Nick slitted his eyes open and looked up at Warrick, surprised that of all the things he could have said, that was what he mentioned. Not 'thank you for trusting us to find you', not 'thank you for not shooting your brains out in front of me', not 'thank you for not walking away when you found out I was in love with you and two of our coworkers'. Of all the things Warrick could have said, he'd thanked Nick for letting Warrick take care of him, and that made him laugh, if a little hysterically. "I love it when you take care of me. Don't you know?" he asked with a laugh, knowing full well that what he was about to say was going over the line. "It's why I get myself in so much trouble."

 

Warrick didn't smile at that, but he didn't frown, either, though Nick might have thought he was frowning if he'd only seen the frown lines around Warrick's eyes and not the grim set of his lips, just like Bobby's when he'd said the bullet was unidentifiable. "You better not get in any more trouble," Warrick said harshly, his fingers tightening on Nick's face, but Nick didn't pull away. "I don't care if it means I never get to take care of you again. You're mine, Stokes," he practically growled, and Nick had to repress a shudder at the sheer possessiveness in Warrick's voice. He wasn't afraid. It was just that no one had ever looked at him with that kind of intensity, no one had ever claimed him like that. It was only words, sure, but Warrick was still claiming Nick as his own. And Nick was surprised to find that he wanted that. "Nothin' else better happen to you."

 

***

 

Nick returned to work that night with a stronger sense of self than he'd had in a long time. It was pretty amazing, considering that at the beginning of the afternoon, he'd been hating himself for almost revealing the identity of their suspects to Warrick. He sincerely hoped it would never happen again, because Nick didn't want to have to choose between his job and Warrick. Because he knew what he would choose, and it would be a shame to give up the career his coworkers - friends? family? - had worked so hard to defend.

 

"Any messages?" he asked at the front desk, and was handed several envelopes of significant thickness. He dreaded looking through them, but proceeded to the office he'd taken over from Grissom regardless, because he had to go over them before he headed out to recreate the crime scene with Sara and Catherine and Greg.

 

He frowned when he saw that the blinds in the office had been drawn. They usually kept those open, since it was easier to be forewarned about who was approaching - which was helpful when it was someone annoying like Hodges or just plain vindictive like Ecklie, who was actually so concerned with solving the Bell case that he'd told Nick not to worry about overtime. Nick had had to stop for a moment, figure out if those words had actually come out of Conrad Ecklie's mouth, but by the time he figured out that they had, Ecklie had moved onto another topic. Everything in the lab had moved so quickly over the past few days, and Ecklie had been on top of it all. Nick didn't know how he did it, and he didn't know how Gil put up with it.

 

When Nick opened the office door, it occurred to him that he could ask Gil for himself. Not when or if Gil got back, but now.

 

Because Gil was sitting there.

 

At his desk.

 

Like he'd never been gone.

 

Nick stood frozen in the doorway, simmering when Gil didn't even look up to acknowledge him. The man had been gone for two weeks, without even telling them that he'd been planning to leave or where he'd been, and when he returned, he didn't even look at Nick. Gil was hunched over his desk, staring at the brown leather on his briefcase, his eyes shielded by dark sunglasses and his forehead shadowed by a familiar straw hat.

 

Then Gil's head bobbed down, and didn't come back up. A moment later, Nick heard a soft snore escape Gil's mouth, and realized that the guy was actually asleep.

 

Nick's anger evaporated at the knowledge, and he closed the door quietly behind him, taking a seat across from Gil at the chair that always sat next to the desk. He'd never seen Gil asleep before. He'd seen Gil tired, he'd seen the way deep circles bloomed under Gil's eyes when he worked too many long shifts in a row. Nick didn't have to look very hard to see the circles that were there at that very moment. The sunglasses Gil was wearing didn't cover them - they weren't as big as the ones Greg liked to wear, the ones that made him look more like a wannabe pop star than a CSI. Gil's sunglasses were more conservative, and less... pink, and probably better at keeping the sun out.

 

Not that there was any sun to be kept out in the crime lab, which meant that Gil must have come straight from his car to the office and fallen asleep right at his desk. Nick realized he was smiling fondly at the image in front of him; Gil, with his eyes presumably closed under those glasses, snoring softly. One of the most interesting things about seeing Gil asleep was seeing Gil at a moment when he wasn't observing anyone, wasn't analyzing or interpreting or trying to figure out the world around him or how to react to it. Instead, Gil's whole world was inside his head.

 

Now Nick had to decide what to do. If Gil had gone directly to his office, that meant he hadn't checked in with Ecklie, and both he and the sheriff had been asking about Gil for the last three days. Nick didn't know how much Catherine had told him, but since she was the only one Gil had been calling, she was the only one who knew. The only one besides the man sleeping in front of Nick, and Gil wasn't exactly the most likely candidate to indulge his whereabouts over the last two weeks if his mysterious behavior was any indication.

 

The door swung open and Gil's head jerked up. Nick couldn't see where he was looking, but he imagined that Gil was surprised by both his presence and the presence of whoever was at the door. Nick took a look for himself, and saw that Catherine was there.

 

"Gil," she began dryly, and Nick could tell a lecture was about to begin. "Tell me you didn't spend the last twenty-four hours driving here from Austin."

 

Nick's hand clenched into a fist at the mention of Austin and he concentrated on relaxing his hand, not wanting Catherine to notice the intensity of his reaction to the simple word. What was he supposed to think, though? Austin was in Texas, only a few hours from where Nick had grown up. Gil had left so soon after Nick's confession about what had happened with his babysitter, it was a very good possibility that Gil had gone to Texas to do something about.

 

But Nick was still thinking about what it felt like to realize Gil had fallen asleep at his desk. The way Gil had looked, relaxed, not worrying for once about how to act or what to do. Anyone could've walked in on Gil like that, but it had been Nick. And Nick had gotten the chance to observe, for a few precious moments, Gil in an unguarded state, and Nick... Nick couldn't be mad at him. So Nick gave him the benefit of the doubt, and kept his mouth shut.

 

"It was twenty-one hours," Gil corrected. He pulled off his sunglasses and slid them into his shirt pocket, turning tired but determined eyes on Catherine. "And I'm fine. I've worked longer shifts."

 

Before the two supervisors could face off, Nick got up and faced Catherine. "Lemme talk to him," he said, keeping his voice low so Gil couldn't hear. "Give us a minute, okay?"

 

He waited for Catherine to leave before he closed the door, then stayed there with his hand on the doorknob, trying to decide his next move. Confront, interrogate, question, beg; none of those ideas appealed to him. He just wanted the past two weeks to never have happened, so that he didn't have to choose between defending the hurt Greg and Warrick had endured and sympathizing with everything Gil had been through. The man was obviously exhausted, and when Gil's face had come up, Nick had realized that he was sunburned, too. And no surprise, if he'd been spending the last twenty-something hours on the road from Texas.

 

"Nick," Gil began, then broke off suddenly, as if he wasn't really certain what to say. Nick turned away from the door then and faced his one-time boss - no more because he technically still answered to Catherine - the man who'd become more than a coworker the minute he'd put his hand over Nick's in his coffin and called him Pancho and saved his life; and he waited. When Gil finally spoke, he didn't meet Nick's eyes. "I didn't expect to see you so soon."


	29. Chapter 17D

"I could say the same thing about you," Nick challenged. Sure, it had been endearing to find Gil asleep at his desk, but that didn't mean the past two weeks were easily forgiven. As sympathetic as Nick was, he also had to keep in mind the effect Gil's disappearance had had on Greg and Warrick.

 

Gil looked up at that, his forehead creasing thoughtfully before he spoke. "You haven't been staying with Greg," he surmised, and Nick frowned, uncertain what that had to do with anything.

 

"Yeah, we have," Nick said defensively, even though he wasn't sure why he was the one being defensive. Gil was the one who had left, who had asked Nick in his instructions to take his place. Nick didn't owe Gil anything - that wasn't why he'd been there for them. It was because he cared about them, not because Gil had asked him to be there. "Actually, Greg's been staying with us." He didn't clarify where exactly, because he hadn't discussed with Warrick just how much they were going to tell Gil. Besides, if Gil wanted to know, he could ask. He didn't really deserve to get any easy answers out of them, not after the way he'd just left without any warning.

 

"Oh." That was all Gil said for a while, but Nick could see that he was thinking, debating about whether or not to say more. Nick waited impatiently, arms folded across his chest, as Gil furrowed his eyebrows. "I didn't think to call there," he finally admitted.

 

"You mean-" Nick started to ask, but stopped when Gil nodded.

 

"I left a message at the townhouse." That was the most promising thing Nick had heard since he'd stepped into the office. Maybe Gil did realize what his leaving had done to them, and maybe he was trying to make amends. It was a start. "I knew Greg would be asleep, but I hoped he'd get it before he left for work."

 

Which meant Gil hadn't been sure whether or not Nick and Warrick had been with Greg, but based on his earlier statement, he must have hoped. Not enough, apparently, to try all methods of contacting them. "Why didn't you try Greg's cell? You know he keeps it with him." That was just an assumption on Nick's part, but come on, how could Gil not know? All CSIs slept with their cell phones by their bed, no matter where they laid their heads.

 

"I didn't want to wake him up."

 

Nick snorted. That was a bunch of crap, and they both knew it. Gil had to know that Greg would've been worried at him, or at the very least, angry once he figured out that Gil had left of his own volition - which was probably why Gil hadn't called Greg's cell in the middle of the day. "That's bull," Nick asserted, briskly crossing the room until he'd reached Gil's desk. "You've been on the road for a whole day, you said so yourself. You knew you were coming back and you could've called sooner."

 

Gil was caught, and he knew it. To his credit, he didn't look away, and he didn't try to deny it. "All right," he finally said, his voice steady but low. "I thought he wouldn't want to talk to me."

 

"Maybe you should've thought of that before you left without telling any of us where you were going." Nick was well on his way to snapping at Gil, but he didn't much regret it. It wasn't like Gil didn't deserve, not after the worry and fear he'd put them all through. "Greg's-"

 

"I couldn't tell you where I was going because-"

 

"Because you were going to Texas to clean up my mess?" he snapped. Gil's eyes widened, startled, but he quickly reined in his reaction.

 

"No, because I didn't know where I was going," Gil corrected calmly, speaking slowly as if to a child. Nick scowled at the implied condescension. As if Gil had any right... "That's what I said in my note."

 

"What, the one where you told me to take your place? You didn't say anything about not knowing where you were going, you just-"

 

"No," Gil interrupted again. "The note I left for Greg. I figured he'd tell you."

 

That new piece of information brought Nick up short. Gil had left a note for Greg, one that had said he didn't know where he was going? Why hadn't Greg said anything about it? If there had been a note, why would Greg have panicked when Gil hadn't come home? Why had Greg been worried about where instead of why?

 

"Greg didn't get any note." He hadn't meant to sound confrontational, but either there was no note, or Greg had been faking his reaction, and that didn't seem very likely. Nick narrowed his eyes at Gil, but as pissed as he was that Gil had taken off, he couldn't bring himself to believe that Gil was lying, either.

 

"It - it must have gotten misplaced," Gil finally said, stumbling over his words for the first time. Nick couldn't doubt that Gil was sincere, though. He'd never known Gil to lie - no, Gil just smiled mysteriously and withheld information when he didn't want someone to know something. But he never directly lied. Except for a few minutes ago, when he'd said he hadn't wanted to wake Greg up, but that was different.

 

"Maybe," Nick conceded, still regarding Gil a little suspiously. Not because he suspected Gil of making up the note, but because... well... it was just a little too convenient. "So if you didn't know where you were going, why did you leave at all?"

 

Gil dropped his eyes at that, once again averting his gaze. He was silent for so long that Nick started to get uncomfortable, but before he could say anything, he heard the door open again, and it didn't close. "Catherine," he began, and started to turn around.

 

"Sorry, wrong gender."

 

Nick turned around the rest of the way, startled to see Greg standing in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the desk behind Nick's shoulder. No, not the desk; Gil.

 

Greg stood silently, his lips pursed tightly together as his hands started to shake and he shoved them in his pockets. Before Greg's emotions erupted into a confrontation, Nick hurried over to him, putting a companionable but firm hand on Greg's shoulder as he leaned in to speak softly into Greg's ear. "I just found out he was back myself," he said quietly. "He says he left a message the townhouse saying he was on his way back and he left a note for you when he left, too. It must have gotten lost."

 

Nick could feel Greg vibrating with tightly held emotions under his hand. He squeezed supportively, trying to let Greg know that he understood. Greg didn't seem ready to say anything, so Nick turned to face Gil again, his hand still firmly on Greg's shoulder. "Greg and Sara are helping me out with a crime scene recreation," he explained. "Sara's checking with the techs to see if we can borrow a fourth."

 

The implication of that statement wasn't lost on Nick, and he doubted it was lost on Greg or Gil, either. If Gil had been there, he would have been their fourth - at the crime scene, at least. Since Gil and Greg and Warrick had already been in a relationship, Nick had been their fourth, but Gil's leaving might have changed that.

 

"I can help out," Gil offered, much to Nick's surprise. Not only had Gil been worried that Greg wouldn't want to talk to him, but Gil had spent over twenty hours driving through the baking hot desert. He'd fallen asleep at his desk, for crying out loud. Hell, Gil had even come here instead of gone home - if he'd gone home, he would have known that Greg wasn't there. His fear of being rejected by Greg had obviously affected his destination.

 

But if Gil wanted to wear himself out, that was fine with Nick. It wasn't like the job they'd been planning to give to a tech was all that sensitive - they just needed someone to stand in the middle and look at the big picture, see if the lasers were all lined up. And Gil was telling the truth when he'd said he'd stayed awake longer than twenty hours to work multiple consecutive shifts - Nick had seen him go forty-eight hours at least once.

 

Nick wasn't going to make it that easy for Gil, though. He wasn't going to make the decision himself. "What do you think, Greg?" he asked. "Can we use Gil's help?"

 

Greg, his muscles coiled tightly under Nick's hand, just nodded after a while, still looking directly at Gil. "We're carpooling with Sara," he finally said, and started to turn away. "Parking lot, fifteen minutes."

 

It wasn't much, but at least Greg wasn't demanding that they not include Gil. Catherine would be pissed when she found out, but Nick would deal with that. It wasn't his priority at the moment. "Okay," he said, once Greg had left, and closed the door once again. Now that he knew and Greg knew that Gil was back, there was only one person left who needed to know - and that person was probably asleep at the moment. That didn't change the fact that it had to be more important to tell Warrick that Gil was there than to let him sleep now and find out from someone else later that Gil was back.

 

"I know you think Warrick doesn't want to hear from you either, but you should call to let him know you're back." He knew he was taking a risk, and not just for himself. It was very likely that Warrick wouldn't want to talk to Gil at all, but even if he didn't want to talk to him now, it would be best for all of them not to withhold any information from Warrick. Best that he find out now instead of later. "I'll be at Sara's car. And Gil..." Gil looked up, questioning silently with his eyes. Nick just wanted to reassure him while he could. "Whatever happens, I'm glad you're back. We all are."


End file.
